All they have are the I's, the my's, but never the why's
They let lies drip like flies from their sewn button eyes
They stitch hate and pleat fate through cloth alibis
Take their fill from your till of crushed cotton dyes
...
Hey fellow writers of things
From poetry to prose
To all the betwixt and in between~
...
Thank you for coming to see me today
For listening to what I have to say
I have the most wonderful news
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