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Virago
No longer the fall guy you used to require
All those old photos burn well on my fire
The carcass of love on a funeral pyre
Thank God your apprentice I failed to sire
You'll fly high and free with unsated desire
While your cravings degenerate into the mire
No doubt to harangue and defame you'll conspire
But then so be it, vengeance will be dire
From the start of the end you are branded a liar.
poem
by
Esra Sloblock
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