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by
Eliot
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what a waste
Poems
Mar 2018
Dracula
It’s like,
now that I’m high I haven’t the slightest.
I’m trying to write but the font feeling tired.
Word to the wise, I’m outa this mind.
Time to shine like the whole week whined.
Joke.
Nocturnal like the sun been broke.
Look, It’s all I know.
Written by
what a waste
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