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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#176841voted by our readers
By Anonymous
He walks so slow like his feet have grown too fond of each other, but he’s heading towards a door, so I guess it’s ok. I’ve opened that door before. It’s cold and covered...
He walks so slow like his feet have grown too fond of each other, but he’s heading towards a door, so I guess it’s ok. I’ve opened that door before. It’s cold and covered...