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Natt Rozanska
Poems
Jul 2012
While Rome Burns
So many times,
You fell asleep on my bed,
At noon, or by night,
And I sat beside you,
Rolling a joint,
And everything Was.
A company felt
In the imitations of
Immortality
A distraction,
A perfect waste of time.
Written by
Natt Rozanska
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SoulSearchingStill
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