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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Philosophy >> ID #349761 |   |
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I cannot see,
I cannot taste, I feel the world grind brains to paste. It cannot hear my silent scream, I feel the world mash brains to cream. Sometimes here, I feel the sun, I know the world cares not for one.
© Copyright 2002 Bastet *back for a while* (UN: puny_scribe at Writing.Com).
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