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Question My Words
You question my words
Wanting them to not be heard
Flying like a bird
You call me verbose
But see I am quite the pro
With much wit to show
I do cry these days
But I am finding my way
I will be okay
I do not mince words
You may say that I'm a nerd
You smell like a turd
My rhythm and rhymes
Fall into place all the time
Netting me a dime
Focus on your works
As I stand here with a smirk
I guess that's a quirk
You question my words
But your silly hate is cured
And your shade deferred
These words are not guns
But have the power to stun
Now I think I'm done
Copyright ©
Christopher Goss
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