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3 Psycho Friends
They are the only ones who drive me to drink. I am the only one who has any common sense. Three psycho friends with brain damage and drool running from their mouths. Three who do not belong here but are here. Three terrible excuses why they did something stupid. From my room, I can hear them, driving their super loud cars down the road. Here comes the insane squad.
Their minds are equally empty. They smell like dead bodies beneath the ground. They never grow up and they have the minds of children grabbing their helmets and their crayons. Between their mindless brains, their cars with loud mufflers never quit revving. This is how they keep.
Let one forget his name, they’d all fall like rocks down a clif , each one falling behind the other. Help, help, help they say as I watch. They’re gone.
When I am too happy and too out of breath to keep keeping, when I am a bad friend they forgive, then it is all good. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. One who grew despite the other two. One who reaches and does not go anywhere in life. One whose only reason is to be and be.
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