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Jan 2018
The Edgar wisp of winds drags frivolously across city streets where the fluorescent glow of lumination stands proudly to represent the vast indentation of our creation. where the cold and unforgiving hand of man is all to familiar, and alone I stand, here in the wake of it all. The lone wolf. A warm candles wick. A lost guitar pick. A Penguin without a pebble of thought to determine what's real and what's not.
Written by
NeverAgain  25/M
(25/M)   
145
 
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