FatalA Poem by MortriciaFake fake fake.Thy naughty knave pot to the kettle you ought not, knave but you meddle, meddle, meddle
speak no more clamp down on your word bind your mouth tight it's the least you can afford
you're a fraud, you're a fake a deceiver; masquerade swindle this, swindle that swindle right into your grave
you're a wolf in sheep's clothing an imposter to the bone all the world surrounds you; all alone. © 2010 Mortricia |
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1 Review Added on November 27, 2009 Last Updated on January 21, 2010 AuthorMortriciaCOAboutGet cozy to take a journey through a rhythmic, twisting prison, I'm a metaphoricalien and writing is my mission. "Didja hear about the guy who lost his left side? He's all right now..... more..Writing
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