Nobody who knows me will be able to tell you how much I love to write things in an almost Shakespearean manner.
I have written a kind of short poem, because my lack of space is frustrating me more than ever this month (maybe it's because it's 2009? I'll explain later).
I am not the lion, the mask, or the cape,
Remove from me these pins, that I may escape,
Do not believe this foul costume,
Yours, and too your perfume,
Uncover the true smell of this cobwebbed room.
I won't explain everything for the r...
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