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The oil's spilled; the weekend’s spent. Battering rams adorn our newest cars. The coral's bleached, our girders bent, and as the ash falls, drones fly on Mars. The poker chips clank on the felt. Sweltering mules sway drunk in bars. A toddler falls, receives a welt, and as the fires grow, drones fly on Mars. I could not bear to speak the truth when you had asked me where went the stars. A cow sits in the kissing booth, and as the sky blackens, drones fly on Mars. The wind has fangs; my heart now sags. A feral pig grunts to mass applause, Now childish men hoist cryptic flags, and as the crops fail, drones fly on Mars.
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Aug 19, 2023
Aug 19, 2023 at 2:35 PM UTC
On Mars
The oil's spilled; the weekend’s spent. Battering rams adorn our newest cars. The coral's bleached, our girders bent, and as the ash falls, drones fly on Mars. The poker chips clank on the felt. Sweltering mules sway drunk in bars. A toddler falls, receives a welt, and as the fires grow, drones fly on Mars. I could not bear to speak the truth when you had asked me where went the stars. A cow sits in the kissing booth, and as the sky blackens, drones fly on Mars. The wind has fangs; my heart now sags. A feral pig grunts to mass applause, Now childish men hoist cryptic flags, and as the crops fail, drones fly on Mars.
Ira-Desmond
Written by
42/M/American
Aug 19, 2023
Aug 19, 2023 at 2:35 PM UTC
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