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Alistair's Poems + Stories
Thursday, 10 April 2008
Smoke
Smoke.
It seems to be all that fills me.
Smoke and a thousand
Dreams that I cling to
Without hope.
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Pass The Time
Grim Bones and the Cursed Fiddle
The Beard
Unnamed
Smoke
My Peace
IT
I Am
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Comfort
Alone
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Alistair
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