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Smooth blackness covers the abyss, Hiding the colorless, nondescript mess beneath, Standing sturdy, muffled when hit, Resting in a neglected corner of society. Sitting where the wind doesn't blow, A white veil spread, shielding the chaos inside, Standing against the curved wall, Nowhere to go. Running in an endless circle, Sealed tight, mute, soundless, Trapping darkness, Blocking the light. If you've learned anything from this, It's that anything can be deep as long as it's poetic, I wrote this about a trashcan. E D G Y.
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
This is Deep Art
Smooth blackness covers the abyss, Hiding the colorless, nondescript mess beneath, Standing sturdy, muffled when hit, Resting in a neglected corner of society. Sitting where the wind doesn't blow, A white veil spread, shielding the chaos inside, Standing against the curved wall, Nowhere to go. Running in an endless circle, Sealed tight, mute, soundless, Trapping darkness, Blocking the light. If you've learned anything from this, It's that anything can be deep as long as it's poetic, I wrote this about a trashcan. E D G Y.
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sean-holshouser
Written by
26/M/Houston, Texas
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
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