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Fifteen Lines, One Hundred and Sixteen Words.

Imperfect and flawless The misfits and the signature of God’s Poetry Two parts of the broken fragments of society Two floating souls who collided and turned into one family One closer to eternity, the other, about to fulfil destiny Both strong, but possibly one more vunerable The air was putrid sewage And the odour of… Continue reading Fifteen Lines, One Hundred and Sixteen Words.