There is no cure for the WickedA Poem by god is not great, I am
Ruined,
but not entirely. Despite your best efforts, Traces of my former self still remain, though very badly mutilated. I am no longer bitter, but I am sad. Not for me, but for you. I was once of the impression that it was not possible to live without a heart, But you falsify this theory entirely. You are plagued with heartlessness, uncaring, unfeeling, and unkind. A shell of a man, hollowed inside. I must ask that you please keep your distance, come too close and you might infect us all. From what I hear, it's quite catching. How desperately lonely it must be.
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11 Reviews Added on December 9, 2011 Last Updated on September 23, 2013 Authorgod is not great, I amChattanooga, TNAboutNo God. No food. No sleep. That’s all you really need to know about me. Atheist, Anorexic, insomniac. I am sure we have very little in common. Another note: My favorite writer ever- Charl.. more..Writing
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