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It runs amok inside of my head.
It arrogantly prances as if I were dead.
It thumbs its nose whenever I try
to quell its intelligence-insulting lie.
It bleeds the eyes with the morning news.
It voids in me with its monstrous views.
It winds me up as a talking head,
then perturbs me at night when I go to bed.
Sliding along, biding our time,
or still soaking up the trumpeted slime,
...
Tuesday 13th July 2021 5:35 pm
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