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  Feb 11 Asia
I have a pen to write poetry
no one reads
I have a canvas to paint pictures
that never see shadows
I have a voice to sing
that only speaks in fluster
My fingers pluck the guitar
the music of singularity
One day it would be ideal
To cast away my work uniform
To brush away my tears of conformity
And pluck a gossamer silver
from the heavens
...Just once.

— The End —