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Nov 2017
It's like I'm picking up glass off a road,
Trying to make a window.
It's like it skidded after it snowed,
Pieces scattered like the mind of a ******.
Head out in space,
Fragmented pieces turn into liquid,
Mind gone without a trace,
Swirling swirling skid skid skid.

That poor sweet kid,
Silly man look what he did.
Karl Warren
Written by
Karl Warren  M/Ireland
(M/Ireland)   
337
   Glassmuncher
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