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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#216741voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Cold hard floor boards are now my bed, The only place I feel safe in this hell called life. Soon the sergeant will call upon his slaves, So we can endure our possible last day....
Cold hard floor boards are now my bed, The only place I feel safe in this hell called life. Soon the sergeant will call upon his slaves, So we can endure our possible last day....