Why do I try? I remember being told my material is mediocre, numbness on a circular plate. Thy life, so much hurt. Meanness aged in pink dirt. I was robbed for something I did in my dream. Cross your legs, don’t worry, I made it – NEVER. Gore written across my forehead, I, I, I, eye. I write to express my self, IIIIIIIIIIIII tried. Breezy. Wings of love, whatever. I write just to write, eye suppose
~That Dude Eddie~
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Love and Peace.