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My Friend

my grandma had one them things she told me to listen to her strum from a phot o

it was a potato that was laying on the staris and upon the stars whs she painted them

the portraits of love the basket of drugs the mask mt. for a cheerio was it was what

the crow said to the raven before the lake made the fog it was s ahdow it was hours

ago it has been days it has been years it has been called some other time it has been

when and where it was there and there and it happens again now and then things I

thought of before things we're here again at the vast expance of nothing just flipped

the coin it was silver there we're three of them floating by in and by out for a crime

morning it was when i woke up once and at night it when we lay down to rest yet what

it is that he said it is written round a candle thing that stops the paint from dripping

from the canvas wet it twas only a frame it is only a game it is back then and back there

the shed twas locked that day that i looked for my friend there i lost it again he is still

in diemensioning his name it is a chair it was a flare it was something back then with

someone else who, the cops, that is a secret he told i told him one too and i have been

there and back i have been lost beneath glass i have seen her there becoming a cube

hardly it twas just a moment a dove and i rip i am dead i am flattered beneath but the

statue is she and whom and it was a mystery and still is yet beneath is a space for a

heartache and someday I won't question the satanic bible, the idea is that it wouldn't

happen if it didn't, and if it didn't it won't happen again, the idea of an idea the idea of a

thought the thought of the thought of the idea, where did it go that old road soda, just

to prove it was and it wasn't it is and it isn't and it shall be and it won't be the last time

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