Fire - Poem by Patrick Tincher
Ouch, This burns!
This playing with fire
I can't quite manage
To not burn these
Blistered hands there I go again
Testing fate, Burning these hands more
Next thing I know
I won't have any hands
Then will I be sorry?
I will just know tempting fate was fun
Until stumps were all that remained
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You