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The Rope
My quietness complements my neck
The phobia of its wreck
My timidity relies
The rope my fate lies
The holder bangs
My neck there hangs
Only for the rope
I would need elope
Time would only tell
For my utmost repell
But for this rope
My prayer to Cope
My neck being choked
The larynx poked
My partners many they are
Only to answer 'sir'
Under the same nefarious fate
To the handler they are dogs we hate
Though relieved they are by bit
Our rope linger unitarily in spirit
For the handlers think nothing of us
Our victimazation their shores
Our pressure their pleasure
Their leisure our displeasure
To their praise
We are lost in the maze
But their joy ceases
For the rope's end decreases
My freedom is come
And in liberation I storm.
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