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Poem

This body of letters and rhyme
Does an act of a mime
Every fragment and symbol
smells like whiffs of alcohol
The spaces between the words
Create meaning in our world
All solid diphthongs in a line
Gives credit to our wasted time
To compress a thought is tough
Like one can't produce a puff
in a single chance to blow
like my poem-
so hard to let go...

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