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Jul 2013
I’ve disturbed the senses of many
Does my conscience allow such?
It was not light I dwelt in
But sheer stagnation I call home
The newt’s eye never exposed to colors
The fungus of the darkness
Moist, cool and unseemly
Molds and mildews so foul
Yet not for the indigenous
I am but a proud mushroom!
Traveler
Written by
Traveler  62/M/Traverse City Mi.
(62/M/Traverse City Mi.)   
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