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Nov 2019
On rows and rows they hang they hang.
Skin stretched thin on their necks.
A tranquil gasp for one last breath.
The wall a collective shadow of silhouettes. Oxymoron. Escaping death whilst escping life. Completely innocent, unaware, yes painfully clear.
Written by
G  27/F
(27/F)   
82
   Max Neumann
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