I DON'T WANT THE FAME
No place to call home, a nomad destined, forever to roam;
Run, run, run! No where to hide. Lost, mired down in grief;
Because no one wants to accept you for who you've become;
But a false legacy built to get you killed. Hated because you survived
a 40 year old plot;
Despied becuase you can never do right, the cross game at its finest;
Your body cold and shivering like muscle spasms, like a crying child sniveling, frightened to death.
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