Last evening I heard on the radio that many people have not had events happen of tragic,
in growth touching my youth a man had books,
in those category of the photograph I counter the compass of this country to the bindings of libraries,
as books are not a certain subject and as text screens scope only a particular view,
that good stay of The Green Apple.
To pick up a Scene on the troubles that have brought flew,
chutes and ladder day reins may be hoof a journey to what has recorded history,
throughout the Ages of Mankind,
caves Chisel by hand and see to bring limb to subject light as the grip of bound.
Treachery has become be yawn`d,
the language loops in with History does not show how What??Evers have delivered dead blunders,
clear lead to the Worlds direction is not pick up the pen sill of liter blood said,
in the stead of steer a wheel gasped.
At 811 Balboa this is one of floods of the Pictures that Jim Moseley had on the Rib,
the shoes to his collection were ghost leads to Men^Knee as for what is broom`d today,
a Toaster on the Cause as to dangerous for equipment as a Joke or a state??.
The rake showed the minds on filing a grasp of wisdom from the booklet,
to have had poled these pages to just curiosity pulp it brought my curious to not terror but candor,
factual evident Country to Poe land as Ed grr ran a Dictionary plan,
this was 815 at Introduction to figures and brings.
I used to stare with total attention to these dress Sing suits,
fascinated I would than gaze in touch with the eyes of these Men,
which direction was the pupil querry,
why on the tap Ping of a flash bulb did My mind go directly back to those Suits??
Than at the study of many, many, many, many times of paging truth to these pick stirs,
I understood the vast Missing from the frames,
the smell of ash rising from the chimney clay,
that tool of skin Tux from a tooth in the Teeth of a hoe,
the gloves.
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