Poets are a dying breed
Their language is being lost
Sunflowers
Sunflowers in the field Standing tall Standing still Like guards keeping watch Over the farm And it's flock
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The evils of this World hold you by a leash to Stay in controll
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They were fools to interrupt this day My day Where I was to be wed to the man I love Did they not think I would be armed Did they not thin... -
Sons of night Wicked deeds Doomed they are
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