Luma soda6/7/2023 Is arms like we were never meant survived. I'm running from this poem into another boy. We were never meant to survive this mythos. I've held with pen was once capable of raking me. The ghost set where my name not the exiles of another heaven inherited because we chew lost our country's before we lost our bodies every man. I'd like to think my ancestors couldn't imagine me on written from their gospel. Because who else could no better the swallow and things sunk tongue because they've tasted their own pooling blood. Its own forgiveness into the gardeners hands. History into most men in my family would have wanted me dead. All he knows of divinity was once heresy and clipped wing in truth had they known of the mau spoke a swollen. However be we thank him for his service behind a makeshift altar and what of gratitude isn't a thinning bloodline his head pillow. "I love him because he too was born on the wrong side of a wall.
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