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Nov 2018
A waste of space
moves from place to place
with a shameless haste
and a graceless face.
All the space that's wasted
cut and pasted
freedom encased
though briefly tasted.
Laid to waste
that wasted space
limbs were taped
and there defaced;
the sign said "Waste"
to home we raced
at a frenetic pace
footprints traced.
The edge of space
where fruit met waste -
a confusing place
reeks of **** and fine lace.
A waste of space
wearing my face
lost the race
to the black dog's pace.
But just in case
here's a place that
cannot be wasted:
bed frame's embrace.
i never want to leave my bed again,
Jack P
Written by
Jack P  19/M/Australia
(19/M/Australia)   
449
     divi, n stiles carmona and The Dybbuk
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