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Ottar
Poems
Mar 2015
The Scent of Eventide
Creeps the stench into the room,
Through an open door, our doom,
Oily sticky sour smell,
Ain't Heaven must be hell,
Large grow-op cannot be far,
Perhaps a skunk versus a car?
Peace and quiet taken for a oneway ride,
As there is now a stink, high on Eventide,
It has come in.
Tide of a certain breed
#nature
#fun
#stink
#elverum51
Written by
Ottar
where you will find me
(where you will find me)
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