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    Poetically Wasted

    Poetry, the craft of a solo mind,the intity of one’s true emotions,

    the cry from a damaged heart, the proverbs of the bible, the songs

    of a soul, the masterpiece of an artist’s desire, the hip hop with out

    any sounds and beats. 

    The manifestsation of its kind, souring away to a humam beings cry, 

    the lyrical acceplea ( I’m sorry i cant spell) but it tenderness speaks

    even from the goodness of hell.The melody that digs in the soul that makes

    the mind flutterwithout being withhold. No chains or locks, no rules or regulations,

    this testimonial word is free to roam all spaces. Not looking for answers, yet inneed 

    of an S.O.S, saving our souls, is what I like to call it yes.

    The emotional ties that came from its speech, the intoxicating thoughts it sends when your sleep.

    The land of reality, the reflection in the mirrors, the illustrations that express that it can truly see us.

    The taste of sweet bitterness that creeps in your throat, making you feel guilty when you know something wrong is about to croak. The touch of and angel so smooth and soft, the mind of a subliminal mastermind rising from his trough.

    Searching for anyone who might need to hear its tale, to drink and get wasted on its poetic sail. Casting away to the place of unknown, toast to the taste buds of a minds complex soul.

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