Can life at hidden costs make you look at pretty people who look at inessentials who wage beauty from replicating identities that conceal better places who wish to love anyone who burn their expressive talent to find darker entertainment that shame an order of influential infamy of an acquisition through simple memories to find our loss of originality. I can’t pretend to look happy when I’m normal. If it’s sad to hate a person, maybe self worth is a reinstatement to find beauty to love more.
Tedious minds blindly make a time so shallow over gay, the competency of space that show many with grace, the interrogation of every time hence the repugnant, known of change seem to glee the majesty of gesture, languid but a depraved audacity speaks of renaissance, plies the suggestion of every regulation that makes life of class, sybarite the decision of every way of being. Inclusivity is a mere hence of decision, more thy doubt of a lost or will, a person will drought more, thy people listen the way we think, why we listen, why we sing.
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