I am the virus.
I need to be contained.
My venom spreads with every word I say.
I am the virus.
I wish I was contained.
The spikes are taken out of the wheels and I’m definitely not sane.
I am the virus.
You’ll wish I was contained.
I’ll make your every word the last one in this endless game.
I was the virus.
I’m all alone.
Not that I regret your number calling on my phone.
I was the virus.
I followed your decree.
Now your head sits alone on my bare knee.
oh my
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Wow… that’s pretty deep
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Thank you.
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That’s ok. How are things with you?
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Not bad thanks. I’m getting a lot of inspiration for poetry!
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That’s always a good thing… right?
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Absolutely. The long suffering artist needs inspiration! Hope you’re all well on your side.
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