Poetry: Drug Free

You had your hold on me
That's ancient history
I will get better in some time
I begged you to set me free
Instead you diluted my mind


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Poetry: Clown-seling

She was a nice girl on the outside
Looking in she needed help in my eyes
Everyone picked on her foolishly
She wore make-up

To hide her insecurities
Trapped in her own mind
Without any room
A compliment would inflate
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