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Aug 2014
Sitting upon the rock, brain burning
In that solitary land
There I fall between two stools
I think bright as a button
As any stretch of imagination

As gentle as a lamb
I guess lines
Figuring out the things
Getting down nitty gritty
But I faint dead away

No heads or tails
But I reconcile
Like martin Luther
Between black and white
I scratch remaining forehead
Written by
Osman Chide
1.6k
 
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