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For a Lost StrongholdCasting a fearless glance at he who is the king of my pain. Remembering the times when everything was peaceful, and I, was able to hold my head up. Reliving the moments of every blow, every time we meet. Not a bit of respect there for the protecter... the one who violated everything his title stood for.... making everyone wonder why I now cease to be 'Daddy's Little Girl.' Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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