Untitled 02
Blog iconInterludes
May 25
Untitled 02 It feels strange to show face with no breath To run a race with no pace, just slow steps Eighteen, still got nothing to show yet we don’t know how long we got on the show’s steps Vapourise a lie, unless you call it a slow death Til our eyes grow wide, cause we don’t know yet Our fates, like concrete, are slow set Down comes the veil, we don’t want to accept

Interludes

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Interludes

Weekly poems from Jake Nugent

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