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Feb 2021
This is the place we grew
Stuck our hand in wet pavement
making our imprint on the world

This is the place we left behind
A fine memory of dust
and kicking rocks

This is the place we no longer love
filled with the old and the replaceable
counted our stacks and moved on.
Written by
Nadai  122/F
(122/F)   
122
   Bogdan Dragos
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