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The Little Things
April 18, 2009
With my finger’s little fury, I peck out these little black words
That crawls on this paper like little black birds.
It’s all the same you see
Little teen angst is all I can be
With my small town charm
I truly don’t mean any harm
You’ve got to believe me
I am spinning lies most honestly
But who cares?
Let’s just watch his mind stretch till it tears.
In the mean time my little birds keep on crawling
And my rhymes keep my little mind sprawling
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