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I can't blame myself for dreaming
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Paint me green and it may seem
But I dare not envy those who smile
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by boitorifan
12 lines, 1 comment,
on Oct 4 12:26 AM 2007
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Liberty is it
What you preach.
by boitorifan
69 lines, 13 comments,
on Oct 1 10:16 PM 2007
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I paused,
To watch a cloud
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staring / blank past the red glow / of what was nothing / that i thought i should / know / bussing / beads of sweat clean / from my forehead / my table stacked / of dirty dishes / chipped / in Your tele
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Cats cradle, / Four-square, / Cocooned / In broken beer bottles. / Reserved parking / Clanging snaps, / Flag lining nooses, / And the naïve swansong / Cries. / Caliber a third grade / Eye. /
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Anything is everything and everything is nothing, Yet, nothing is nothing of anything.
by boitorifan
0 lines, 3 comments,
on May 22 1:45 PM 2007
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I found him there / Tangling my sheets / Fumbling / All the words that he should / Never speak. / The Baptists never / Speak / Of the Jesus that they preach. / But you can’t make me scream his name / In v
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I never was a manicured lawn, / Tee ball, little league, / Football practice, mesmerized / By top twenty selling music artists / In the back of the locker room. / Coaxing
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There’s a dog barking outside my window and the rain / never completely rinses away oil like mother / always said it did. You look outside expecting / to find a hero, but its raining outside and he’s out / wash
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Kissing the clock when four men stand strong.
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Bless the Scratches,
by boitorifan
121 lines, 4 comments,
on Apr 8 7:06 PM 2007
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While Bush tries to rape us, replace us, and break us.
by boitorifan
65 lines, 1 comment,
on Feb 12 11:22 PM 2007
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the trouble is im not that kind of guy
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Cry wolf little blonde girl cry. Yes, the monsters did you in.
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Thought provoked artillery, And launched water balloons
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I step back,
From my inner Narcissus.
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I step back,
From my inner Narcissus.
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My knuckles bare,
Behind window shades.
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I pull myself,
In and out,
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Toby always followed me,
I never traveled alone.
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I sit and strike my cigarette,
Knowing what it means to cry.
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All you want is sunshine,
But I sleep better when it rains.
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He bent me lustfully as I lay,
An angel waiting for crucifixion.
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There once was a boy,
Of peacocks and concealer.
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If the world is ours to conquer,
I don't know why.
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I finally learned that everything is full circle.
As what the professor preaches,
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Yet the ones I haven't martered yet,
Are the lucky few who hide.
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The man looks at me,
From his corporate office chair.
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And sweatshops of handless promises
behind a bridal vale
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delicate disasters
tears when its aching
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The cork book looks over,
Rhetorical lies I'm behind.
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I sit, I think, I wonder,
Rather complex.
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