"Hello there person,
I'm glad you came by. I was just writing this poem, but now I'm stuck.
Think you can help me with the ending?
it goes... "We painted in basements with brushes and bones, on canvases stretched over whispers and moans. Our hands made a mess of whatever we touched, But truly now, isn't that art?"
which ending do you prefer?"
- Dough Boi
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