Sunday, April 25, 2010

It Injures Me

It injures me when you think ill of me,
Though I guess in truth I injure myself
When I know you are forced to such disgust
And disappointment and forgiveness
By all my vulgar snarling and despair.

rcs.

Current draft: 4/25/2010
Created on 4/22/2010 10:39 AM

This esoteric conceit clumsily conceived by Ron Southern at 10:48 AM
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