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Literature Text
One bottle, two bottle, three bottle, four.
Each one holds so much more.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Each bottle I've come to hate.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
So many bottles on my shelves.
They vibrate, they shake.
Each is like a miniature earthquake.
They each hold something strong.
Something I've kept bottled for long.
Inside each bottle is an emotion, it's true.
Their colors range from red to black to blue.
Some days, the bottles leak.
And out pour my emotions, and I begin to freak.
I cry, I scream, I rush around.
I just do not not want them to be found.
By the the people I love the most and the least.
I do not want my emotions to grow into a beast.
So with much effort, I shove them back inside.
In the basement, where they shall hide.
My emotions will never be released.
For if they do, on my sanity they will feast.
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Thought I'd give rhyming a chance.
And I am fucked for tomorrow,
So I just needed to release these bottled emotions somewhere...
And I am fucked for tomorrow,
So I just needed to release these bottled emotions somewhere...
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