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The Screen
Words flicker on the screen blocking out our dreams
They want more and more not nine hours but twenty spinning the clock till we crawl on the floorÂ
Words decay in front of our of eyes a meaningless babble cross referenced and diedÂ
Then they lift our dying limbs to type a few more
Then leave our rotting carcass by the door
Monday 3rd December 2018 8:49 pm
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