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07-22-2015, 05:58 PM | #1 (permalink) |
Groupie
Join Date: Dec 2011
Posts: 3
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A young lad in a costume of oldish.
Living a life
As a hope it is As a sunken, ceased strife On grounds that are Never to be his. Sounds of others Stand tall in abyss Of a man in his prime, In his dress With daisies grey and grime. No arsenal, just quiet longing Last edited by Aabsinthe; 07-22-2015 at 08:09 PM. |
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