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Ayn
Poems
Oct 2020
Untitled
The fragrance of loneliness
Dwindles under our starred sky.
Only the blind will ever see
A starless expanse.
The blind are faulty to the point where itβs luck.
No Iβm not talking about people who are actually blind.
Written by
Ayn
20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)
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