Have a little respect for this boisterous man about to sit on in, set your minds alight every single time
Write only ever what you can, and will, all dream about
Precise diction plied all too trustingly aside high-end fiction
Dereliction a thing of his fastidious part, age-old agony to set then collapse the heart all over
Bolder than Joyce only far more intelligible perhaps – sent to bounce these fair words about the page
Entice the life right from then back on into our rather peripheral heroes
Incredibly unsung
A rung on up, upset his flow and he shall forever get to know that you are just the very same as the fair flavourless rest
Have a little heart, press these unequivocal words distilled with colour against your far more affable chest
Earn his words, why don’t you?

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