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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#435271voted by our readers
By WyattGerber BRONZE
South Plainfield, New Jersey
I walk into the crowded, well-lit room, Where there are not one but two buffoons, And a thousand other generic sheep, To whom I have the desire to speak. I take out my scissors...
South Plainfield, New Jersey
I walk into the crowded, well-lit room, Where there are not one but two buffoons, And a thousand other generic sheep, To whom I have the desire to speak. I take out my scissors...