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Mar 2015
clear sky coldΒ Β descending,
scrambled
mind like an egg, impending
communications
signal so lost, on depending,
a present frequency
that can carry the weighty
scale
of injustice pales to the moonlit
verse read
of a Shakespearean tragedy
peppered
and salted
to taste
no waste
well not yet, clearly
as the
past is
tense
and the Twain shall never meet,
Mark my words
So...do ya follow?
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
642
     ---, ---, unknown, Nope, Rear Window and 1 other
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