Yard by yard
Miles, distances without markers
Define our space, our bond;
Inch by inch
the stone-rows grow
Box-men and babies, spinsters and thieves
sense and covet, rattle and rage
that they should have the hurt, the hate
we feel, we live this day.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Online) - Published: June 3rd, 2025 20:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Online)
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