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The hate. It rages; burns my shackles to reality until I am no longer bound.   So I whither and shrink and hide, like an arachnid,
I am that badgering caterpillar of ugliness, which tries to come again and again, You keep plucking me,
My canvas is stained with memories  Ink seeping from its white sheets like blood Pooling into puddles of thoughts, feelings, expressions The red rage that builds up inside me
She is alive
The world is surrounded with thing of a dream. The stars are all shining; look at them gleam! Though things might get harder, we can still sing. Let us live for our new day so we can live in Beauty!  
Well this is quite a surprise. I've never been asked this inquiry before.
Too inconsistent to be myself, I am three thousand pieces of a mask Ripped up and stuck together With brittle glue and strings: Promises But they never hold. I’m a shape shifter,
Two little caterpillars sit on a stone Scurrying and hurrying into the unknown. They part separate ways and say their goodbyes, Venturing towards a lurking surprise. Eating their veggies with water to drink,
The pale bud dances in the dark  Swaying to the beat of the wind
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