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Andrew
Poems
Jan 2021
Untitled
I sit, and whereβs the sun?
below the grass.
And I rest my head on my jacket,
And below, a stone.
Where is the music the world used to play?
Ears untouched.
Where is the music?
Where has the world,
Theory, sinews, and all
gone.
Written by
Andrew
20/M
(20/M)
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