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Courtney B.

Question my conviction
But I'll still believe
Scoff at my foolishness
I go on dreaming
Insult my being
Laughter to do so much worse
Go ahead
Withhold your gracious hand
What made you think you'd be met with naught but gratitude
Handle me as you wish
In vain you'll get nothing of it
My turbulent nature festers and stews
But only paper knows the half of it
My placid countenance shall reveal none