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Fucking tired
Poems
Nov 2016
the hawk can't see
The hawk can't see
The hawk flies-
through the raging storm
Her golden brown feathers-
poetry in motion
Her status is the highest-
top of the food chain
Eye sight sharper than mine-
yet even she can't see-
. the words in your brain
really old
Written by
Fucking tired
F/hell
(F/hell)
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Doug Potter
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