Cry your tears…
Face your fears…
Allow the Will of God to be done…
Our childish instincts, are to run…
Feelings are meant to be felt…
Dealings are meant to be dealt…
Gamble your soul, your heart will surely fold…
My tellings are told…
No longer, will I be left out in the cold…
Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes 
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