insectsmaketheworldgoround
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I'm cursed, on the inside I'm hopeless & vacant;
I seek help for I need some sort of placement;
I struggle to understand and how to feel;
Am I a monster, for I must not be real;
I hear your heavy, beating wings
That fill the warm summer air.
Some hide in fear of your stings.
However your flight is a glorious affair.
Watching you; full of fuzz
