You were guzzling visions of fame and money,
you wanted to simulate that Romanian woman
while I was struggling for a timid friendship
that it seemed like a true story to me
and I lost too many useless, bitter months.
They had a love
we of your teeth the trembling
you had a scarlet heart
now it's the color of your crime
I have no choice but to give you the same coin.
do what I do best,
let the pen go and play at being a poet.
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