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sons' irony (09/04/2016)

coal cliffs cold crest on oceans deeper than the storm
begging mercies on a fevered brow, desperate to get warm

clinging to the rocks like moss where shallow lichen grows
thin by hunger and stiff by pain, stacking markers row by row

pale as you, chameleon, searching onwards through the howl
sleepless circles sharpen your eyes as hunger makes the owl

we stamped out the steel a hundred t...

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im sorry that you're not OK with no longer being t

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