THE SMART TRICK OF EPOCH POETRY THAT NOBODY IS DISCUSSING

The smart Trick of epoch poetry That Nobody is Discussing

Black is the color of my minor brother’s mind, the gray streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled deal with……we go to meet the realization of makers understanding who we are …understanding how to live, and what lifetime is… …we must spin through our seventh adve

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