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Poem: Half-Baked

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Black and blue, brown and white,

The bundles I carry are fluffy and light;

My eyes are heavy, my garment blood red,

It is scarlet for my dreams, which are regrettably now dead.

I chose not this path, I chose not this name

My efforts to change have flickered in vain;

If only there was some way for me to be,

So much more than I’ve come to see.

This verse is unwieldy, its rhymes unfair

I see myself, and I,

I despair.

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