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Why does it burn?
Burn, then high up into the sky
So high up into the heavens
The blue for which I yearn
To heaven? Or hell, or such..
Surely it cannot mean
That fog, that poison exists
In the place that I dream about so much
The whiteness choking me
Makes me feel so on the ground
Not where I want to stand
Not where I want to be...
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Written on Sep 30th
After hearing Ba-rom's poem about the man smoking
(I hope he posts it on his webpage)
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