The times were full

bladders like and tensions more

while music calmed

conversation swirled

until mess was forgotten

where anger was revealed

the crap a third

and real shit the rest

a place of neglect

but an area of negligence

we would roam without

and with we whimper

the edges only being scary as such


time called for action

which in turn was short of things

laughter unfortunate

among other rare sightings

perhaps the key

more likely the stall

the breather, or distraction

coordinates of imagination




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