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The perfect verseThe perfect verse… that rarely flows, Words that bump and grind. A feeling that I want to share… Sometimes… so hard to find. Words that I string along, Trying to find the key. A way that I can tell the world… Look, this is me. But what I am is rarely clear, Words come and go. I am what I seem to be… What this is… I don't know. I can only be what I choose to be, I can never choose what you see. And that perfect verse that rarely flows… Will be my legacy. Vote for this poem
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