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Sep 2014
I look at the man on the street
the bottle has drained his face of color
the cigarette burns a hole through his fingers,
still dimly lit and smoldering
we are different, aren't we?
I'd like to think so.
We are different....
or are we?
Edgar MoneyPenny
Written by
Edgar MoneyPenny  here and there
(here and there)   
846
 
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