Just a minimum wage delinquent,

With a broken spine,

A feeble clone of a super hero,

Bloating itself on blood at half-time.

Who feeds on the half-hearted prey and on the painless casualty,

Needing no sympathy and feeling empty in the darkfall,

Numb, lost and mute,

Watching the Heaven-Sent doll sit there awkwardly watching with its glass eyes.

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