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Nov 2017
Whilst slipping out of the main street,
I reach for the feel of torn paper.
Fiddling a small ball of blu tac
that is squeezed into a round circle.

Make sure no one sees me.
For I have my way of putting up
a sophisticated form of graffiti;
Poetry.

In one glide of effort,
the black ink that is a poem
contrasts well with the white paper
and now a brick wall.
can't afford spray can
true story tho
Panda Boy
Written by
Panda Boy  18/M/UK
(18/M/UK)   
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