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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#248251voted by our readers
By Anonymous
The wood floor is cold. The loneliness I feel now has no comparison. They are all turning away hiding their faces I broke something precious. This explosions shrapnel has hit m...
The wood floor is cold. The loneliness I feel now has no comparison. They are all turning away hiding their faces I broke something precious. This explosions shrapnel has hit m...