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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2090812
The time I was being a brat.
My parents have always been stingy with their love
Too much love can spoil you, they repeat
Yet misery has managed to find us anywhere, anyhow
The caution we played, acted and reenacted
Was not enough
So you know
I can see why desperation is a necessary measure
But the world gives you grief anyway
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