Consumed by perfection
I hate what I create.
Can beauty be born
By these flawed hands?
Creative conception
Derided by the Fates.
Give me a muse instead of mockery.
My efforts are not in vain
If my roots go deep
And I reach for the light of the Sun.
May I be like a tree.
I will weather the drought.
I will weather the storm.
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The best girls are made with both sugar and spice, a good bit of naughty to go with the nice.
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