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This hurts, that hurts
I can't, I won't...
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I was born from love
And raised with hate...
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Form - Narrative
Title - The Hunt...
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Hold onto me;
And don't ever let me go...
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I Thought I saw a bird in my den
for all I know it could have been...
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We may not see them often
but always they'll be there...
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Lipstick smiles and non-existent hats:
pride rises like steam from temperamental heads...
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Pain can consume us, make us self loath
Always in pain feeling nowhere can be home...
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With pen on hand, I wrote my heart on lines
as Nights came walking, running with my Days...
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Words I can rarely say
For that's what i'm truly afraid...
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It's a new feather of hope;
Delicate, fragile, thin as ice...
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Aliens had abducted me;
Beam of lights from their spacecraft took me up...