If using words in depths were theft
I guess I would forever be bound
For that core which I'eve found
I cannot but put to use
Not to misuse
My muse I put on standby in her fuse
That my wit
Loose not her feet
And gained ground be not aloof
Restrict me not
My pen on paper ascribe
For in so doing I find expression
Menial curative
I cure depression
Relative identity
Promoting chastity
Bildung picaresque
I remain me
Change me not
Restrict not my bounds
In ability identity I'eve found
I'm me
Permit my muse....
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