The Life of Mr.2_
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- Parts 9
I used to have this pen, this pen that would relate everything i couldn't say, everything I wanted to say. This pen that gave me confidence, this pen that made sense of everything, strokes that would sing the keys my vocal chords strained to screeching,this pen to paper; the pain to paper. And for the thousandth time, as softly as I can. These scribbles of mind.
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