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Zoey
Poems
Jun 2018
A Running Joke
We walk on ice
We run on ground
Our soles
Worn thin
We pound
We pound
I dream of a hand saw
Slipping past my skin
I pull out the muscle
Before the pains begin
A constant ache
The kind we ignore
Just dream of sleep
And sleep
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Written by
Zoey
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Maxim Keyfman
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