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B E Cults
Poems
Jun 2021
pollution
the noise of night
is hallowed ground;
I hate everything i have ever made.
hardly getting a glimpse
of most stars because the city
screams in many ways
makes me realize
that it all doesn't matter.
and that matters the least of all.
Written by
B E Cults
30/M/hendersonville tn
(30/M/hendersonville tn)
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