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contused bruised the sky looks used up the clouds are stacked like bricks black against the horizon I smack my eyes on the nearest one and watch it break apart they don't always break I've noticed that not that it matters the wind scatters me across the sea of the sky and I die, not one but a thousand times and a thousand more. confused? well you'd think so I know it's not so. Every second second counts third place is no place and first place is a slam dunk for the man in the drunk tank but for the man who comes nowhere, there's nowhere to go and I know that is so, Frank is a dear that would give a ram for a sheep in wolf's clothing, that's really a man (had to put that in, don't ask me why) there's a bit of Rhett in all men who'd like to see Atlanta on fire, but the cloud allowed me through to do what it is that a sunbeam can do one sunbeam one dream acorns and oaks and a man who smokes filter tips.
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Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
The big hand at twelve
contused bruised the sky looks used up the clouds are stacked like bricks black against the horizon I smack my eyes on the nearest one and watch it break apart they don't always break I've noticed that not that it matters the wind scatters me across the sea of the sky and I die, not one but a thousand times and a thousand more. confused? well you'd think so I know it's not so. Every second second counts third place is no place and first place is a slam dunk for the man in the drunk tank but for the man who comes nowhere, there's nowhere to go and I know that is so, Frank is a dear that would give a ram for a sheep in wolf's clothing, that's really a man (had to put that in, don't ask me why) there's a bit of Rhett in all men who'd like to see Atlanta on fire, but the cloud allowed me through to do what it is that a sunbeam can do one sunbeam one dream acorns and oaks and a man who smokes filter tips.
john-edward-smallshaw
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Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
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