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Why?
The slow decline of summer daysElapse and fall in murky hazeof shimmered skies with clouds dark grey,our future seems unclear now.With baffled cries of haughty funa song that’s meant for everyoneto cast their shadows on the sunit’s not our song we hear now.So as our dreams are chided bythose thunderous schisms from the sky.They make… →
Dec247h 