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Oct 2013
the droplets corrode a softened skin
the undead lay asleep
the thoughts flourish, a shot of jin?
paper so crisp; the sailors keep

everything is intertwined
yet nothing seems to fall a place
everything is circled nothing is lined
oh life is a horrid daze

wake me up
wake me up
alas, i can not wake
as for i, the undead.
Written by
carcass george  England
(England)   
472
 
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