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quilted skeletonQuilted skeletonquilted skeleton
This crippled and decaying thing wrapped in quilt, Oh how they are bonded within this motherly love, How so different they appear to be, like, hearts and guilt, It only loathes being as free as a heavenly dove.
When it cries for death to take it from this mortal land, Like heaven to some it prays and craves to be condemned, Its eyes cracks up and flows down inside which leads into its hand It smiles and laughs insanely, I love this pain which my quilt have stained
It came the day when the reaper must come and appear again,
stunned

A Black CanvasIt's a never ending story, And we're the children on the floor. We start out ready to be molded, A blank canvas you could say.A Black Canvas
We are who we are, But we don't stay the same. We change as our surroundings do, Including what's inside our head.
Brain washed by the guardians, Our canvas filling with colors. Losing who you are, One color at a time.
Propaganda Injections, And opinionated to guilt. Once they get inside your head, You've been colored stupid.
So go ahead and listen, And let your colors fade away. When
all a blur
--
the bright path awaits us
--
the bright path awaits us
--
92% of teens would be dead if Abercrombie said it wasn\'t cool to breathe. Put this in your sig if you are the 8% who\'d be
co- Founder of *UKClubofallclasses
--
the bright path awaits us
--
92% of teens would be dead if Abercrombie said it wasn\'t cool to breathe. Put this in your sig if you are the 8% who\'d be
co- Founder of *UKClubofallclasses
--
the bright path awaits us
--
92% of teens would be dead if Abercrombie said it wasn\'t cool to breathe. Put this in your sig if you are the 8% who\'d be
co- Founder of *UKClubofallclasses
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