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I grew up thinking I needed to be the perfect picture.
A perfect focus-
No blurred vision.
My life was all planned out.

I blinked and lost focus.
Angels introduced me to hell.
Now I’m completely different.
I traded my halo for horns.
I no longer shine yellow.

I went from good to bad.
I couldn’t do any harm, but now I’m wicked.
Grasping at air on my way down.
I can’t be helped.

I’m the match and the gasoline-
I burn everything.
Stay away from me.
I am covered in wicked.

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