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Speaking with a passive tongue:
Long to wait
Quick to answer.
Witty responses that send
The audience into hushed silence,
'Need some ice for that burn?'
The card is as dark
As my tar black soul
Describing me so well.

Holding it in my pocket
Reminding why I'm a survivor
Because sarcasm is my only defence.
Words that attack,
My tongue, a sharp blade.
Sharpening it every day
With each wound I make,
My vocabulary of death
Will send them all to the blazes.
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