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My eyes are of waiver They click and tock onto  the views that are given-- calloused hands twiddling a sauce covered spoon make my vision spell a new line  on paper.
“Instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle.” ― Benjamin Franklin   1.
After a day like yesterday, I'm grateful for my faith.
Too often do we wave a flag and blindly call ourselves a part of the nation. The soul must shine through with what we believe. As an American, what does that mean? Could it be freedom? But what choice is made to use freedom?
Line after line words become forced to pass the time eyes diolated with dumb ideas brain malfuction it starts to feel steamed Not rhyming is harder than it seemed oops, try that line again
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