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May 2018
The house is so quiet
That I’m forgetting to breath
My blinds are blowing inwards

I can hear ringing in my ears
And a drone of talking outside
The breeze is very beautiful

Music is playing somewhere
Loud and without care
As I sit here typing

A crescendo of surburban bliss
Not caring or not working
I best go to sleep soon
Written by
Andrew James Shepherd  Burnage
(Burnage)   
163
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