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Nov 2019
There was a knife by the window.
There was a pair of shaking hands.
There was a letter he could barely read.
There was a silence in the room.
There was a coffee scented candle.
There was a broken music box.
There was a photo of a stranger.
There was the death of a poet.
Written by
Bummer  17/My room
(17/My room)   
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