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by SEAN Apr 26, 2006 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
The dew is growing upon the coloring grass the sun can be seen from a high please don't look I'm hoping for solace but your content in ways i deny imbued with a flourish of hurt as the bacterium enters my blood stream ill die in a similar way i awoke alone and afraid of repetitive defeat
by Schmeg
Tee he I
by Macabre
Oh I love this its fabulous. Keep up the good work Sean. ~mace~