H

A poet sacrificed his meaning for a rhyme; he sold his poems for less than a dime
And all he ever wanted to write or say, got forgotten each and every day
Then one day in the grace of may, he attempted to commmit a ruthless crime
He robbed a store-keeper past his prime and the fucked up poet never got away
And his life never ended up so sublime, locked up, spending his time

H

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