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when i first began to write poems, i kept them hidden in a little pink journal tucked in between my mattress and my box-spring. it was a dirty little secret i kept locked away.
Brothers and sisters, cousins and friends, Are the only ones who will truly stay till the end Say what you want, and say what you will, We both know that they are the ones there still
The apple equals the entire poem.
Attention... Writing is different, so stop being imcompetent; leaving behind useless memories. Listen to what comes out of your mouth! You all sound like bunch of hounds! Remember, write for reason.