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As red rests o my chest, I know to who, for why, I gave my best. Not a hint, I will not give a sign. For I wear my scarlet letter, Hester Prynne. No matter thy works, Lies shape thy tomorrow.
My one true love was a letterAnd for tears upon which I stood,It grew up through pieces of plasticsearching through years of daysfor woodFor grass, for fir, for wood, for flightEffortlessly
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