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#shanks
In pubs with bar flies. Kronenburg, Becks, Carling, Stella Artois and Fosters, Dancing in our blood, Utterly inured; we are endured by all: The solipsism most profound. And when Johnnie, Jack and Jameson join, The sentimental and the morbid Are conjoined. And **** In the custody of beer halls, The shadows that draw, fade, And calls – e’en Death’s! -- are put on hold! No time; instead, before the last, another pint. For in this hallowed inn, Drinking what’s in the glass, And espousing the glow within, Cares regress. No woes, Or loaded psyches, For when the pressure builds, The best: a jet of yellow bliss, Relieves the pain, On Armitage Shanks' porcelain.
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
Quinn's
In this place of adventure and wonder Because I'm always wondering What's going to happen next Where predictability and routine Are as common as nonsense I feel comfortable in the chaos In this place, the sun never sets The adventure never seems to end I've always wanted a life like this I never felt more like myself I am like a puzzle piece With the most jagged edges That somehow fit here so perfectly
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Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 11:29 PM UTC
Race Yourself