Broken Triumvirate
My soul is the hungry child, crying for love. My mind is my the grand father up ahead, who knows of broader possibilities and offers hope after hope. My body is a stuborn mother who disregards wisdom and neglects her offspring. She pampers herself like Jezebel, gazing proudly at her distorted reflection as if she were "the fairest of them all".Â
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Comments
Very cool. As always.Â