...
Perhaps a poem
Perhaps a pill
Will fall from the aisle of your palm
And plummet into
the well of your throat.
Perhaps a piece
Perhaps a part
Of you will approach death with a childish bravery
and hope the reaper fears
a man that did his work.
Maybe it's the end
Maybe it's the same
But you will learn these things for a price
So relax
Allow the poem
Allow the pill
Do it's work
and cure the life and reality
Away
Maybe to peace
Maybe to pain
By King Of the Quill
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