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Jan 2021
Here's the hollow.
Our solemn portrait.
Where trees part thier death.
And our pasture seeps through,
Enriched by the bounty.
We ****** in secret.
Sculptures stripped in silence
A gallery, maddened by its entries.
But scratch off the drops.
Grab the mug from the gift scar on the way out.
Maniacal Escape
Written by
Maniacal Escape  30/M/lancashire
(30/M/lancashire)   
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