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"beskeak" poems
A cold wind dashes through me like a dart Calling out a name, a name I dare not speak Piercing through my skin and into my heart I ask myself what does it beskeak
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 2:05 PM UTC
carlosvarela
Ghost
A cold wind dashes through me like a dart Calling out a name, a name I dare not speak Piercing through my skin and into my heart I ask myself what does it beskeak
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