write a poem faggot
Grim sights of fallen loves and pain scorch marks in mind and dirt All days remaining they show the stain for wounds may heal yet still hurt
A gift from victor to conquered souls sorrowed hearts for their lives to drag Victor's desires raised over ash and coals they have changed the color of the flag
I feel like smoldering birch trees smell like smoked fish
That was definitely not the scent I imagined being present in the air for the scene I was describing when I wrote it.
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