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z2. 2-104. Untitled
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Untitled works from book two... For my own
Insecurity
For my own
Doubting mind
Won't let my heart discover
What's there waiting
Waiting there to find
For my own
Bludgeoned past
For my own
Wicked deeds
Make impossible, my happiness
For that
Is which it feeds.
For my own
Plundered treasure
For my own
Empty soul
Leaves no room for another
To refill this hole.
