Upstairs
where the light stays on
there's a picture plastered
pasted to the
sun.
Bright ewes
bright I's
glistening like the
placenta sunrise
trapped in thisguys
mind.
Blew the clouds
read the whines
few the prouds'
humble lines.
Upstairs
where the lights stays on
theres a fixture
a plastic mixture
plastered to the
son.
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