On the cutting floor.A Poem by andrew mitchell
We were all given an end
there was no need to pull it or reel it in to play with time was to shorten your string. Even those with ties saw the cutting floor. © 2017 andrew mitchellReviews
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2 Reviews Added on October 20, 2017 Last Updated on October 20, 2017 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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