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Darkly Nov 2017
The sun doth send it’s rays twixt the buildings
along with the sky and it’s hue is reflect’d

in the mirrors across the little street
in a little town filled with little people

and I sit in a little chair at a little cafe
when the thought which the sun’s rays hath lit

We’re all full of ****.
So my writing isn't great. Kick me.

— The End —