Look through my eyes, what do you see -
A vision of beauty that is myself in me,
I see your memoirs depicting heaven
that you thought I was luckily seven.
Enter my way of thinking emersed,
And you will find a temper cursed,
As a hearse verse is terse swelling
of misconceiving my believing.
Use my body, a heart of art
Not world' s far apart,
A very good start.
In an apple cart.
Use my hand
and touch you
From being blue
And I will bless you.
Walk in me and run a trot
Like a horse having a hot shot
Who might run short in the spirit
But blessed with a decanter with it.
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