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The Curse Of You

Your outside exterior,will soon become wearier,as your own,inner poison spreads out,all through your system,for your foolish wisdom,no doubt,a big drought.You're so hollow,a pill,hard to swallow,in sadness you wollow,about.You think,you're so warm but just warn & torn,your false self,in private,you pout.You think you're renewed but you've just been fooled,a tool,your evil flows,just like lava thought a volcanic spout.You think you're stew,so good to chew but just a bad flu like covid with a comorbid case of bad goout. I feel so disgusted,you're going to get busted.All you had to do,is get help. When you're refusing,you're loosing & choosing,for bruisings & soon,you'll have whalts.You think you're a winner but just a blind sinner,your false loves filled,with no guilt.Your arrows of fire,will soon go fly higher but none,admires your mire, filled with satire,+ misbuilt. You're like a reptile,probably,a crocodile but a snake could,also,be to.I got it,you're a mix,just like a box of Trix,artificially flavored but all,the same and filled with blame & you're very lame,misusing your life with wrong fight. All you ever do is pretend to be cool but you're just dressed in wool & some day that will come off & that will stop you. The false sense of rule will show you untrue and then you're stuck,like glue. I feel so disgusted,you're going to get busted.All you had to do,is get help. When you're refusing,you're loosing & choosing,for bruisings & soon,you'll have whalts.You think you're a winner but just a blind sinner,your false loves filled,with no guilt.Your arrows of fire will soon go fly higher but none admires your mire, filled with satire and misbuilt. You think you're so precious but just really jealous,you embellish your hidden self,well.But someday that will change,everyone knows you're daraged and then they'll be sounding a bell and you'll go unwell just like a foul stinchy smell. I feel so disgusted,you're going to get busted.All you had to do,is get help. When you're refusing,you're loosing & choosing,for bruisings & soon,you'll have whalts.You think you're a winner but just a blind sinner,your false loves filled,with no guilt.Your arrows of fire will soon go fly higher but none admires your mire, filled with satire and misbuilt.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things