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T R S
Poems
Aug 2019
Patterns.
Plastic fact-based witches dug a ditch for me last night.
I never knew. I only thought I'd partied too hard.
Sentenced to a hell-hole, in basal bereavement I showed.
I showed up and store all sorts of goo.
I knew it's not funny.
But still I buried my hell-bunny
And hopped into a hellhole of sinful slop.
Written by
T R S
29/M
(29/M)
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Jayne E
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