Period

WellI’m thinkingthat of an ageis all the ragewhenyou’re of an age. and if younger is de rigueurdon’t forget thatrigor mortis meets us all inthe endwhich is only fair, fuk it’s Friday nightnot a soul in sightI might just go to bed…

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Half-pint harp

The central heating pipes play me a merry tune as I stare out of the window with my eyes set on the moon and I know she knows that I think of her wondering where she goes when the sun decides to show its face. getting up is such a palaverwhen I’d rather stay in…

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