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Tom Robey May 2016
My eyes redon to the calming devastation of such undying realisations: I am starved of the right answers to which all true purpose lies.

I feel sickly and swollen like I have consumed too much all at once, and I feel frozen for I have lost all that I love.

I stare at the ground and with swift attention to the gravity surrounding me, I sigh as I predict future days dampened with misanthropy.

I've been lost ever since?
I had to google how to spell Dyslexia

— The End —