Numbers - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2020-06-04 02:07 am
Bones that manage to crack,
A love forever lacking,
What one cannot foresee comes again.
Losing fights that cannot be won,
outgunned, outlasted, nor outrun.
A foot forced to shrubs,
But what of the lungs?

Lonesome, handsome fighter,
What of your gloves?
What of your sums?
Poster person, spokesman,
What of you becomes?

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