It’s not funny anymoreA Poem by andrew mitchell
At the York’s inn
it was another round of self importance where a sense of humour vanished from the wayside. Apparently, when one sense disappeared another sense was enhanced. © 2024 andrew mitchell |
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Added on January 26, 2024 Last Updated on January 26, 2024 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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