Waves of joy crest where sorrow pools around me.
Surprise. You're still alive, but nothing new's astounding.
My life lines are dope. I read 'em off my palm in half of a glance.
I know my finger print's index like the back of my hand.
Expected of excellence. Success. A perfectionist
settled in sediment. Weathered by effortless
attempts at a precedent set by his measurements.
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