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I love playing Chess.

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A short, romantic poem.

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Another old poem of mine about how people can be used like pawns.

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If I’m spared not pain,
Grant me endurances….

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A day in the life.

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From start to finish.

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From start to finish.

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From start to finish.

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I used to play allot of chess with my father, he passed away in march and this is dedicated to him.

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My background, my past, and the present; everyone wonders why I have no future or they don’t care to wonder. Checkered Past… does it matter black or white, in living color; what I am is what I am and that is exactly what you don’t want ever.

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