we are beggars in this cholera bedlam crippled, but not quite ready to fall we are servants to the useful idiots it is a really pathetic gesture we are friends till we die ( there's no shame in reincarnation ) we are the shiny stars in the cloudy night what we want is what we will never have
Reason for writing:
i wrote this poem as an experiment, i just wanted to see how
it would work out.
Birth sign: Not entered
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