Does It Have to make SenseA Poem by Alfred KukitzWhy not play in the word field?We were there in the dribble of it all. Our faces nearly stone. The last time I laughed hundred and two years passed. We moved slowly, the hinges of our joints slowly eroding into the Neverland. Lucky them! Afterward we sipped cream del la creme and tasted our socks for the first time. © 2014 Alfred KukitzReviews
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StatsAuthorAlfred KukitzDeering, NHAboutYes, I'm still here. Just jazzing up my about me story. Sorry I don't die at the end. more..Writing
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