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Post by Rara Avis on Feb 11, 2008 17:51:08 GMT -5
No matter how many times I break down the Human Psyche The walls are weak, how can they ever challenge me Dead for weeks, with weak minds, brain's never challenge the mighty So don't fight thee, The right see what the left left behind A small fee paid, laid beyond the grave, mold brains like llaves Small thoughts fade to bigger things, thinkin of the queens and the kings And their reign rains and blames the way things went down The king without the crown, simple thoughts I already tore them apart now Everything I found, relationships failed, Son of Man nailed, thought's come full circle They come around like a roundabout, everything I waited for and found out Psychoanalytical shallow babble understood by few, hated by many, my point then, now, and forever becomes mute, how?
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Post by Steven Edward on Feb 11, 2008 19:43:06 GMT -5
Wat up at 1st I thought it was alright but as I read on I felt it I'm actually going to read it some more cuz I think it's more to it than one way of thinking Oh and I didn't 4 get sir I been gettin on point U Know.
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Post by Rara Avis on Feb 11, 2008 22:49:48 GMT -5
Haha. It's a poem that makes you think. The meaning is whatever you make it. That's the beauty of.
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