Would problems be solved with a punch in the face?
Or would I be happier with an incurable disease?
Come on, nullify my place in space
I've determined, my inevitable ending is to displease
I have become a tree without roots
Too timid to roam the streets; because I have always been eschewed
My labor doesn't seem to bear much fruit
Thus, I tend to hide beneath the covers and seclude
I own the fact I have hidden cracks invisible
So stop your laughing
I pine to fade into black, and yet be adorable
So please stop your bullshit and acting....Just for me, please
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