Mind Dancing Poem by Dead Beat Poet
Mind Dancing
I don't know if it's real,
or that I'm insane.
It is too good of a deal,
made by my brain.
Rub it in,
with a little spite.
Use all of my will,
a shot of your spite.
I feel you rubbing,
against my grind.
When I am dancing,
out of my mind.
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6/16/2024 5:21:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
