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Watch the feathers On the floor
Keep it spinning, there is no winning
My back is tired, and there's blood on the floor
But hold your horses this flights not Soring
I think your tired, But I think I'm worse
Your Find your Sanctity left living
As I hide, frost bit but survived
Statue cloistered I've Dived
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Unedited
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YOU ARE READING
•Poems I throw out•
PoetryA collection of poems by me, some good others not so much. Coinciding with my thoughts, art stuff, and or rants
