-Found Poetry-
Mexico City-
...and when I'm sitting on
your pouch, out waiting here,
am I a man?
Mexico City-
...and when I'm sitting on
your pouch, out waiting here,
am I a man?
This was inevitable. The end is inevitable. Death is inevitable.
posted by Cpt. F.L.E.E.T.T.R.E.A.T.S. at 4:04 PM
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