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Literature Text
Everyone reads it
Stops, and counts on their fingers
To make sure it's real
Stops, and counts on their fingers
To make sure it's real
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A week of graveyard shift is boring. One's brain does things to keep itself conscious.
I suppose the poem is © Me, for what it's worth.
I suppose the poem is © Me, for what it's worth.
© 2010 - 2024 urbanlemur
Comments4
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i will admit. i laughed out loud.