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Mar 2019
The hour will return,
Bad things will disappear over the threshold.
Tobacco smoke curls warmer
And more melodic punk rock.

The natives wear sneakers,
Indians make tea.
Democratic mopeds
Mass-stamped China.

He laughs and cries,
It is a parody of singers.
All itching to **** him,
Tease other people's fathers.
Written by
Ilya Krivonosov  39/M/Balashikha
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