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Thursday, 8 October 2015



A KID I MET ROADSIDE.


Crusted sweats was a road through his dusted face.
His hand were dangling like a pendulum.
His legs were shivering like an alcoholic.
His eyes drowned and dimmed,
So much of stories buried inside.
And i could feel his tighten chest,
That breath stuck on his chest,
I could feel his churning acidified stomach,
That terrible hunger cramp.
So much was a suffering,
Even the death would do justice even if it's early.


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