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Created on: April 09, 2010
To the last day
Fifty-five years ago, I was born into a world of desire,
Yet I felt not the tug or the pull of the Earth on my body.
At the young age of ten, my parents left for the ground,
But I wept little and wished them to return even less.
Twenty-five years ago, the love of my life ran away,
So I did only what I thought I could do – laugh for joy.
In the summer of forever ago, a thief wronged me,
And he got away with it for a moment until I killed him.
Many years ago, I was placed in prison and I remain still
Because I wrote the first line over twenty years ago.
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