My id.
For what one thinks is truely strange,
In when what place I cannot name
For where why was there not a shame
I hate this stupid game, a faceless charade.
Familiar halls I stalk til death,
Incognito veils my breath
Fierce memoirs call my name
I for eye maim mangle lacerate.
Xanadu is not impressed
What thought I blessed, not at all
What I thought stressed, bloated fall
For what I thought I thought thought I
This, this is my con my Kubla Khan.
By Andy Brown... If I could copyright it I would.
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