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Basil Rubin
Poems
Nov 2019
The Plane
The filth is coming out
Nobody cares who's wrong and right
When our enormous plane is crushing
Into someone else's sky
Wrapped in a gentle comfort towel
Imagined by the hidden shadows
Newly-born screaming in a tower
Soon they'll get pockets filled with papers
Written by
Basil Rubin
19/M/Ukraine
(19/M/Ukraine)
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