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May 2018
I write and I write...
But it’s all useless.
All my work is gibberish.
I just rant.
Hopeing something will come to be.
All this pain is still inside me.
It wants to be set free.
So I smoke.
Hopeing it’ll spark inspiration.
Yet instead it either sparks numb or hesitation.
Autumn Noire
Written by
Autumn Noire  Washington
(Washington)   
  356
     ---, Myrrdin and mumu
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