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Nolan Bucsis
Poems
14h
Somberlain
Into sleep.
I recede.
Every day.
An opaque .
Nostalgia.
For depression.
And other.
Muddling things.
But I can't sleep.
The whole day.
Through.
Anymore.
Tiredly waking up.
In a tomorrow.
Too late to really.
Do anything
Written by
Nolan Bucsis
41/M/Somewhere in Canada
(41/M/Somewhere in Canada)
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