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Pull The Trigger

What is pure Is everything shes stored, In wait of her hero; She waits evermore. Why does it seem the voice Of this Hero is never quite strong enough?? They come and They slash. They cut She bleeds. Dried up Shes done- No love They leave. A new waterfall forms But its not beautiful, no, Nothing to adore When Mother's tears flow- a river cutting its way through the Forest floor. Go ahead. We dont need that forest. Cut. Cut. Cut. Oh yeah, Oil in the ocean? Dig that hole; If there's a spill No worries, we can just go back home. And that white tiger- Beautiful creatures huh? Bet it'd look just SPLENDID Posted above your mantle. Or even better, a rug. Yes rugs are nice. Pull the trigger.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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