how to be a poet (by I don't know) weird warning
He was the ugly human, his heart was in a rage, and all his grief and anger, it poured out on no page. He wasn't happy with his life, the world, it was, he blamed. He bashed his head against the wall, that day he went insane. In his coat with sleeves of white tied behind his back, he sat in pools of his own drool, and screeched out like a bat. Written January 30th, 2002 © on Jan 30 2002 04:48 AM PST 0 • 10
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"He was the ugly human,..."