my sonnet

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Death isn't what it appears to be
We can't escape death
Everything comes with a price, it's not free
I can feel their breath

Death has a sense like no other
Will I ever go home?
It's even better then your mother
Am I free to roam?

Can I even escape?
Can u even kill Death itself
Can I javelin some scotch tape
Can I even be myself

Death is a touchy topic
But my Death will be iconic

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This shit is shorter then the other one, oh well
89 words

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