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May 2015
The place we call home
And the presence of dread.
The room fills with silence,
No words are said.
The table stands alone
With no one around.
No soul to be found.
Hidden in our rooms,
While the chiefs are downstairs,
Drinking away,
To fill their despairs.
The place we call home is vacant.
Splenda
Written by
Splenda  United States
(United States)   
682
   mygreatestescape
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