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  • #8433

    It’s sitting on the bedside cabinet
    And fills me with self hate
    The sight of That little debit card
    Which helped to seal my fate

    The long digit on the front
    Is a measure of my shame
    As secret as my pin
    The mirrored chip reflects my pain

    This little card it knows my lies
    And how I squandered all
    Money out and never in
    Without even leaving my four walls

    It wants to be my friend
    And help me but nice things
    Instead I want to hide it
    And the memory of the shame it brings


    Edit : BUY nice things


    Excellent, understood know it too well, but not any more for us x

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