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If love wrote in pencil I could have erased,
But love writes in pen and I couldn’t save face.


Now reduced to a monologue in this endless dialogue;
A mindless soliloquy in a heartless love song.

Fell for love once and fell in love thrice,
But should’ve thought twice before I rolled cupid’s dice,

Can’t take the pitter patter of this painful melody,
Lyrics tattooed to my heart and now my identity.

Poetry, jealousy, emotions inside of me,
By myself, cast aside, substance my remedy,
but not my vitality; let’s face reality.

You learn from your lessons, but some call it a crime
But is it so wrong to just claim what is mine?

Artists claim ownership of their stuff left and right,
So why shouldn’t I? Even graffiti has copyright.

Hope found me helpless, but I can’t dismiss this
Love is an illness, but can’t I get a witness?

The scribbles on the soul are drawn across the heart
Some call it profanity, but I call it art.




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