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untitled 3 (Sonnet) by starkfister
oh the joys of isolation
all the days of never talking
all the nights of endless walking
engaged in endless meditation
always acting with hesitation
trying to speak but always balking
acting like one who is stalking
living the life full of reservation
there is only one possible escape
to move away from where you live
buy some spandex and a cape
and get yourself a fearsome shiv
call yourself the vengeful grape
and let them taste the justice you give
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