These are my thoughts, my lies,
judge them when i lye down to die
The middle of the eye is where the anger breeds,
born into actions with the slight of hand eye coordination.
The screwed up face of years past begs to be repeated,
but i have still have eyes for a sweet Innocent blush.
Bring forward the passionate youth,
into later years.
Wisdom is avoiding tears,
and containing your fears.
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