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Aug 2020
The air is toxic,
These brown paper bag clouds
Clogging up our lungs
We wash our ash covered feet
But it’s seeped into the bloodstream
Trickling down into a much larger lake.

So we take the plunge
Swimming in the lake of serotonin
We dive down deep and admire the fish,
Such bright coloured fish relaxing at such depths.
Everything is better down where it’s wetter,
But with lungs not gills
We all have to come up for air.

We resurface and time has moved on
The air is getting thick now
And buildings have crumbled.
Entire generations of degraded graduates
Emerging from the thick mud of the banks of the lake serotonin.
Tøast
Written by
Tøast  20/M/England
(20/M/England)   
109
 
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