(19.1.1962 / Yangon)

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Smoke Of Existence

Healing tounches in the midnight of noises
Formless form in my mind digging the idiosyncratic shouts coming out from the throat of yesterday
You are a loser
You are a nonsmoker of smoked hope
Nobody can run away from the hole of surpressed realities
Only..................hopped cracked tops without reasoned truths
This is what people called 'Screamed silence'

Submitted: Monday, June 27, 2005

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