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Perig3e
Poems
Jan 2011
From the 8th floor
From the 8th floor
I can hear an ambulance siren
wailing the boxed night,
who is inside is out of sight,
a heart attack, a street fight?
Somewhere in that labyrinth down there
is a masked doctor,
a pair of surgical gloves,
and a sharp knife.
All rights reserved by the author
Written by
Perig3e
Appalachian mountains
(Appalachian mountains)
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