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Jan 2015
How empty the feeling
of standing under broken skies
when the moonlight beckons all those lonesome, home
Or how the baggies breach branches on the oak trees
on a park before town
where empty beer cans swivel in brilliant winds
and kids dare not go
for the guns come out in droves
- firing squad of the soul
Reece
Written by
Reece
679
   --- and Sjr1000
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