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Κυριακή 26 Φεβρουαρίου 2017

This is not a love song

One, two
I manipulate you.
Three, four, five
Communism will never thrive.
Six, seven, eight
You took the red pill, too late.
Nine, ten
Never called you again.
#fuckyou is the latest trend.
What if Juliet lives in the end.
Atechnic is my best friend.
I want this to end, with a simple and.
O comfortable friar! Where is her lord?
She does remember well where she should be,
And there she is. What’s there? 
A cup, closed in her true love’s hand?
Poison, she sees, hath been his timeless end
Drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help her after? She will kiss thy lips.