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T R S
Poems
Mar 2020
Sifting through my treasure.
Please place me upon a midnight farm
and try to convince me that it isn't the moon that I see through the trees.
Please place me up on the sundown settlers
who were better off not waking up and making up
a ruckus
in the middle of the night.
Written by
T R S
29/M
(29/M)
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