I finished a chapter. Laughed and felt stupid.
Like I knew it always, and yet went on reading.
And then I come to write of it.
Like the stories of hope and morality.
Wish things were so in life. But they never can be so. So do I.
I end up being without scruples.
Like I knew it always, and yet went on reading.
And then I come to write of it.
Like the stories of hope and morality.
Wish things were so in life. But they never can be so. So do I.
I end up being without scruples.
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