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Lyrical Insomniac
I can read, I can write I can bleed, then recite Sense his greed, crease infold Is it me, or his ego?
Write the words, make them rhyme Chorus or storyline, make them nice, make not waste Is it me, or is it in poor taste?
On third verse, can't get worse hope it rhymes, like the first make it ripe, make it plight He's confuzed, in his own right
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My name is Dylan McElyea. Evidently by submitting to this website, I'm a passionate writer. I write in my spare time, (Which between you and I, my time is usually spare) most of which are verses of words forged to be something lyrical, something rythmic. Sometimes about something hypothetical, something about someone else, my interpretation of their feelings, or me venting my own feelings (Almost always the latter).