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Martin Rasmussen
Poems
Apr 2010
Oannes
Your words don't have sounds
that's why they cut so deep
like a scream in a lounge
when all are trying to sleep
You hover through the dark
insisting like crawling creep
but since your body gave a bark
you've made it hard for me to sleep
You're all that we wish we didn't see
but though the evil stole your voice
I look a you like a continental devide
and refuse to sleep
Written by
Martin Rasmussen
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