I came into this world
destined;
to be an anti-art superstar.

An anti-art anti-hero.

A blue-winged soldier
with a dissident heart.

But you can fold me,
up,
pick me,
up,
hold me.

Cradle me with your plush,
and suckle me with literature theory.

Every avenue of thought now,
leads to either you, or your nemesis.

Language and beauty,
or music and power.

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