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Mar 2015
today all of my old poems are dead. walking down snowy broadway, i leave a trail of them in hopes that someone will pick them up. it's too cold out here for ghosts like myself & if the sun opened its eyes, every one of us would drown. it's all a slow melt.
gabriel bates
Written by
gabriel bates  pittsburg, ks
(pittsburg, ks)   
1.1k
     E, MereCat, aesha nisar and David Patrick O'C
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