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Alien Ated
Before the queue was born, drawn was the line on the moon - You are backed to my front, familiar by the curl to your hair - Silent we stand, no voice to the whisper - Respect lost which is sacred, the roar to quake the stake inside the symbol to sound - Do you morning the sun, signal a wave of good, to your neighbour - Or do you prefer to be - alien ated
poem
by
Unic Cjonr
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