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Cracked
June 10, 2013
You make the butterflies and turn it into a maggot,
You stand by as I’m called a fagot.
You hate me, yet love me.
I say I love you, you say how dare he.
Now butterflies to dragons,
I drink sorrow from flagons.
And maggot to banshee,
There is hardly any debris.
As my heart is viciously attacked,
I feel my heart is cracked.
© Kayla D., Croydon, IN
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