Tag: poem
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Pigrider
I lead my horse to the water source but it’s up to him to drink Tastes weird, it’s corked, I don’t mean bottom Ireland New bottle please, if it’s no hassle Three holes, it’s forked like the blue beard of Daario Naharis I’m in the golden company and second suns simultaneously My famous crimes are…
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Rent
In recovery covered with scratch marks In the capital, Karl Marx, prices are criminal Selling cabinets as apartments, garden sheds called living compartments.