Poem -

Tissues

Purpl moons round squar suns I have mental health issues sorry what tissues if I sneez your verbal diariahΒ  into the tissue for you don't no off no issuesΒ  Β my word should be lawΒ  but your death to the world you can't even hear the trees whisper in golden scilenceΒ  sorry pardon mental health issues what tissues I don't need any owl tissues I don't need to flutter in the dark train tissues hear the NB engine rouring m life's boring
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