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Post by Don Schaeffer on Mar 28, 2012 10:04:26 GMT -5
I dream another dark towered city that masks the sky, glistens like diamonds in moisture and loves the rain at night.
With my muddy eyes, I grope, chilled, wish for familiar warm small spaces alone.
I dream the pension-granter decides it's time for me to die. My muddy mind races through that looking for ways to combat the terror. Bound to happen sometime I dream, considering painful options.
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