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Empty bottles lie like dead soldiers In a field of debris, but the night Lingers on despite its casualties. Our heads spin like the turntable That brings life to the atmosphere. You will never look this beautiful Again, and he knows it. Following white lines to oblivion; Speeding up to slow back down. How many? You ask someone. But nobody remembers now, And you lost count hours ago. You run as fast as you can, But the morning runs faster.
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1/25/2021 9:28:13 AM # 1.0.0.435