Biography
Just a person with multiple lives.
Samples
To each his own I write in sorrow, For every man could never but find tomorrow. And all the strangers and all the land Happiness lurking up his sword into his hand. Never mind the guilt, and never mind the doubt. A stab wound through the heart, And sword never pulled out.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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