Long Gone in the Woods

You are a hidden mask

You are a contradiction with high regard

You are a picture without a frame

You are a weed in the garden

You are a chameleon in camouflage

You are a longwinded book without a cover

You are a fat lip with a lisp

You are a spider in the basements’ web

You are a leach in the morning

You are a branch that broke off the tree

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