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Soft Fangs
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Golden
Stolen out of time and space,
left without a soul or a face.
Everything's gone to waste.
I awake full of hate,
trying to wipe my past away.
But it sits and waits.
For a moment, I almost thought
I was golden.
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Ripe as a tree in the orchard,
ready for anything.
Sitting in my room,
like I always do.
Staring at the light,
until my eyes are open wide.
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