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Pastiche

Heat seeking souls

 

Under the table pickle dealings

 

Crisscrossed road scarred dry strangled useless and varicose

 

Mice never squeaked until the invention of the squeaking machine, which taught them everything they know

 

While the best of tender chickens

Laid down in those trenches

Old souls lost to lost causes

In mud mined by young blood

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Written by
james-banks-worsham
34 / M / American
Published
Aug 20, 2025
Lines·Words
8·55
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