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Aug 2014
i look up to the skies
and realise,
they're different now.

thick white lines that hang
and spread; instead of dissipating
like yesteryear.

while all around me, people
stare down @ their
electronic devices.

the world has disappeared
that i knew as a child;
i'm not too enamoured of the
replacement.
Written by
francis mcclean  london
(london)   
577
 
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