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Saturday, March 4, 2006


   wtf?
Ok my muse is busy, because ive ben randomly spewing poetry like mad, i just wrote (typed) about half a page of typing paper, in less than two minutes. I feel so special. Oh, EVIL MUSE POEM!
Hello guitar pick,you lie there in my hand.
who knows when you will need me, what music you'll demand?

The wand choses the wizard,or so an old man said
but there will still be music, when magic is long dead.

Yet here you sit, plastic and color dye
through such simple elements, my muse can truly fly

To relieve myself, i rest on my muse's shoulders
Without hopes and dreams, my weight would feel as boulders

My weight would crush her flat, without hope and love
through these two blessings, my muse is a dove

Filled with innocence, pure and white
almost passive, but the power to fight!

So think twice, before you see a dove
a muse with a gun, can still heal and love!

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