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I don't have a title for this.
I breathe the air that is too pure,
I'll take away your toys and turn them into soldiers.
Put water on my head that's really fire,
Put the hole in my head so I'm a survivor.
A nail in a handful of screws,
The world is my playground, the nation's my muse.
Tear the skin, but still need to be praised,
Soft paws and hard claws, that's how life is played.
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This article has 3 comments.
i get it. i sometimes have these days when ideas just flow through my mind and i don't even have a way to jot them down. sometimes they wait 'in there' and i can capture them, but too often they just come and go, and are gone for good.
i really like your work, it reminds me a bit of poetry and lyrics by polly scattergood, who happens to be my favorite author.
omg, this is brilliant. you can tell it was pretty random, but it has emotions to it, it's like real poetry.
i wish i cou ld write something like this.
though, true, one could never write this without being improvisiational