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aiken

Our moon is a graveyard filled to the hilt With arriving guests, comets of verve and girth Dug craters for gravemarkers and alabaster rocks Catching souls from an Earth of birth Where did you draw the line for humanity? When did you choose not to say no? Beating the ocean with kid legs in a pool Our moon, Minister of Justice; In the know
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Written by
robert-c-ellis
Greenville, SC
Published
Mar 17
Lines·Words
10·64
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