Distracted by a white picket fence, thought painted home my defense
An ideal love with children there, growing green grass not a care
While all around the world turns, people die while peace burns
Under a blackened sky, I turn a closed myopic eye
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: October 10th, 2025 03:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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