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I Only Have An Answer To The Important Question

(profanity alert)

do your dreams play better in colour?

you may never make it to Oz, be left

in the dirty sepia hollow of your streets that bled

their hue & rye into the gutter

when your ankles drowned in

silk and nylon and the alleys breathed your

living tears did you lose more than I ever found?

what do you think you shall leave?

the weight of your footfall...

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bar room philosophy   life   the unverse   everything

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