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Well R.I.P Mac Miller
A kid who walked the same streets as me
A kid who just came up on the scene
No one knew what he had been through
Except for the drug use he went through
Puncturing his veins
Now whenever people say his name, they will say it in vain.
Nothing will ever be the same, when I walk those streets today.
written a year ago today RIP Mac you inspired the kid
Finn Dugan Sep 4
One day I’ll tell you about the great rhinoceros
And how people killed it
And how I feel bad for it
For I feel more for the rhino than our spoiled kind
lo fi sadboi for rhinos :,(
Finn Dugan Aug 24
one has long hair
a dented smile
and reflective blue eyes he’s
a real-life version of a four-year old’s self-portrait-
Pencily, stick-figurey, and an infectious smile of innocence

two thinks with his heart
and channels it through laughter
a visual artist all the latter
skin like caramel
in the late summer
even etched in him are
tattoos of things that live

three is a bird
and my friends say that ironically
but i won’t
because he will fly
to the top of the sky
and will never look down on you

four is me
I'm at college and I miss the homies
Finn Dugan Aug 22
big bold and brown
they’re on the ground
autumn is knocking on august’s door
some lofi garbage
Finn Dugan Aug 12
Lately i’ve been facing a problem
which is most common for all of us
as if every hormone is like the sand tumbling through an hourglass, i am desperately chasing love
mind you i have boundaries but they are a fortress for my expectations
and this wall is sturdy and i deem it to be perfect in respect to my personal taste
my walls are wooden with a fine cherry finish, tall, sleek and daunting
i could even imagine the gate lowering over a trench like a jaw bridge
however a wall built from wood is not practical
if you were a raider or pillager i assume you would light my walls on fire
that’s one way to get them down.
My walls might be flawed but you could expect love to be as well because funny enough you would go through the flames of hell to reach that heaven who is she
and so something flammable is always prevalent within us and when we are desperate for feeling, fighting through fires musters our thirst
we become dry
we forget ourselves
we are highly flammable
it is unsafe to play with fire
this is a draft
Finn Dugan Aug 9
go down to the shore
to do a job that is no chore
take a whiff of the mists
the river will give off a kiss
lots of love in and lots of love out
scraping the **** off the dock
awaiting each tick of the clock
and forget all that
for when the present comes into fold
be true to the stories the eyes behold
two ducks with their ducklings swimming along the shore
beholding the life of their world

— The End —