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These words
Are a fire
Are life
Are satire
Gallop of horses
At the cry of battle
Cup of hot cocoa
On a cold rainy day
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These words
Are madness
My insanity
Are darkness
My humanity
A breath of fresh air
 sweet smelling fragrance
 glimpse of sunshine
In a cold, drab world
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These words
Are my own
Are my muse
Are my enemies
Some, shocking views
Are irregular
No patterns, no rules
My fortitude, my cenote
These poems
Are many things.
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