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May 25
My eyes beneath a stage are they
Looking out into a world of audiences bewildered
With a curtain brow not bent but known
And a well lit masterpiece unwound
Like spool and floss and threaded thought
I will weave these words around and down
Until they fall like leaves in September air
And you can finally see what was never mine
PARKSIDE Memory 3
Seanathon
Written by
Seanathon
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