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Black Sheep And White Clouds

You're a steady stream of bad choices waiting to happen.

The eye of the storm, or the calm before it?
What's the difference?
It's going to ruin you anyway.
You're a constant trickle of water, wanting to make noise but too scared to do it.
Because you're a puppet controlled by strings.
Water controlled by the trap.

I wish my life was like a game show where you press the buzzer and you're...

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sad poemspoemself loathinglovepassionpainself hateblack sheep

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