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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
4h
Where is Tuesday Weld?
Night
and I toss and I turn
wake up cross
and I burn
with angst?
jeez
what am I,
fifteen years old?
someone once told me
something
but I forget what it was
the beauty of becoming ancient
is in the memories you cannot remember.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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Mister Truth
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