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Apr 2017
A strange ghost, he walks through springtime city streets.
A wild dancer, he listens to the music breathing between beats.
Unruly, he moves so wierd with headphones on and silent moving lips.
So funny, he spins and runs with a raincoat tied around his shaky hips.
He was a hurricane, he was emotion's fearless young manifest.
He is now calm, and to beat, his heart should do it's very best.
Now he is calm
Wondering through shiny houses and trees.
Now hurricane is calm.
And you can end it of with with all the ease.
Dmytro from Trotskiev
Written by
Dmytro from Trotskiev  21/M/Ukraine
(21/M/Ukraine)   
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