TRAGIC CODEX

I range from irate to desprate with hate

and spatial differences create dismay

I can’t relate to my generation

erect with libations and caught in striations 

stable unable to rumble or tumble down

frown upon my chances of drowning

and sounds like I rolled the dice 

and lost 

crossed that road to burn a bridge

postulate why you separate yourself from

my two time undermining pan flute rhyme 

for each exhale reveals my good looks

and look I fall into this lifes brook 

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