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all masquerading as something else.
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You weren't conceived in love, but in hate.
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I couldn't wait to give you up.
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You're an abomination.
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You should never have been born.
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I was in the third week of my confinement,
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and a storm was coming.
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The nor'easter of '64
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that brought so much devastation with it,
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and for me, something else,
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something far more savage even than nature.
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Oliver Thredson was,