It becomes a habit; this failing of goals.
But I guess pretty will suffice :)
Poetry / Checkmate.
A dark and twisted cabaret, my life beyond this date.
He laughs and sips in chardonnay, and tells me of my fate.
I stop my thoughts in disarray, and quickly take the bait.
Behind the bright-lit alleyway, the Man he yells checkmate.
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I wish that there was more that I could say, I love it and wish that I had written it. Checkmate gets the first 10 that I’ve ever given.
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wow. that sounds really pretty :) but you failed two of your goals firstly because you couldn’t get any better if you tried, and secondly because i’m not a professional publisher. but it sounds pretty :)
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