| 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 |
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)