Sigma male poem
In shadows deep, where silence dwells, A soul distinct, a story tells. Behold the Sigma, enigmatic grace, A solitary star in life's vast space.
Unbound by chains of social norms, He walks a path where freedom forms. With quiet strength, he stands apart, A master of the inner art.
No need for validation's lure, His spirit soars, forever pure. In solitude, he finds his power, Unfolding like a midnight flower.
A mind that wanders, seeks the truth, Unveiling secrets from his youth. Through introspection's sacred gate, He finds the answers that await.
With every step, a journey embarked, Unfettered by the status quo, he marks. His independence, a guiding flame, Fueling passions that bear his name.
Through storms of doubt, he holds his ground, Resilient, he never bows, never bound. In moments deep, his presence shines, A beacon of strength, a soul refined.
Yet, in his heart, compassion weaves, A web of empathy that never leaves. He listens, understands with care, In silence, his wisdom he'll share.
Sigma male, unique and true, The world may not comprehend you. But in your essence, a flame burns bright, An individual, a shining light.
So, let us honor the Sigma's way, Embracing difference, day by day. For in diversity, we find our worth, And celebrate the wonders of this Earth.
my name is Abraham lincoln, and i'm actually fr alive.
yes. you may think I was shot, but no. that bullet wasn't real. it was a trick. a trick to fool you dogs. I pretended to be dead. I fell asleep. I had a good sleep. I dreamt good dreams. in one of my dreams i did a backflip onto a floating castle made out of rustic lanterns. it was a good dream. there may have been the letter 5. i forgot. i didn't even like that show. fr though, i didn't do it for the vine. i did it so i could escape. escape from all you dipshits. you elected me president, so i won the civil war, and then you kept asking me for more. honestly though smh
my name is Abraham lincoln, and i'm actually fr alive.
yes. you may think I was shot, but no. that bullet wasn't real. it was a trick. a trick to fool you dogs. I pretended to be dead. I fell asleep. I had a good sleep. I dreamt good dreams. in one of my dreams i did a backflip onto a floating castle made out of rustic lanterns. it was a good dream. there may have been the letter 5. i forgot. i didn't even like that show. fr though, i didn't do it for the vine. i did it so i could escape. escape from all you dipshits. you elected me president, so i won the civil war, and then you kept asking me for more. honestly though smh