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Poetry Slime
I think in black and gray
as soon as the lights go out
my brain goes to work
my hand starts writing
I see nothing
know nothing
living in every moment my pen touches the paper
my dream lives and runs out
from my soul to the paper
I have no clue what is written
but I know it's poetry
from the pit of my existance
it seeps out of me
as rich as honey and as pure as silk
yet some how this beauty only lives
in the con fines of darkness
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