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Mar 2021
'tused to be
I'd venesect
And feel free
Unburdened, briefly.
Of late, the septic core of me
Is out of reach
No blood to purge
E'en gifted leech
Finds it hard going.
I must, ere I merge
My strength collect
For a last arrowing.
Written by
Biskut
122
   Terence Chinnery
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