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Clouds of Death

The smoke lingers

up by the ceiling

changing colours

green, yellow, and red

I'm lost in it's sway

it almost reminds me

of birds in flight

or leaves in a zephyr

But then I remember

that all these thoughts

are just ***** and awful

poetic images.

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Written by

alexander-lloyd-twyman

English

Published: Jan 23, 2010
LinesWords: 1246

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