In fact its very simple mathematics.
You've borrowed on my Patience once Again.
This nation named America should stop
to update its Moral Software. Victorians.
you make it back every Millenium
like an Old Ball Dress during Season.
holding the cigarette box, and perfumed.
Refinement has its Plusses. I've betrayed
my Sentiments. I need to take a Breath.
These words have no Extra air, they are dry
and tormented by Rhetorical Rhythms.
Livening my radiance Inner Truths,
poetic symmetry Blight has no use.
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