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The Irony In Your Beauty
No longer thriving
This fire ceases to exist
Shall I take care of what remains?
Devoured answers all turn up again
What am I to do, for what am I to do?
A token of appreciation dangles above your head
The irony in your beauty
We will never have to buy a plot of land
Wave a farewell to the heights which you did not stand
Only to peer to an angry ocean below
Never again will you have to leave
I have lost to drinking
I should be laughing right now
poem
by
Brandon Nothing
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