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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#53421voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Every morning I wake up And oxygen has red and purple marks On it’s neck. Three hours later I turn to my left And get lost in brown mazes, Mazes that blind people would cra...
Every morning I wake up And oxygen has red and purple marks On it’s neck. Three hours later I turn to my left And get lost in brown mazes, Mazes that blind people would cra...