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Mid 1920's, Chicago...The uptight, daylight people living above the radar in need of loosening up...Take a trip to a shadowy building, abandoned in th..
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An amazing fruit salad that my mother made. It's an acrostic poem that talks about the wonders of summer and the great taste of fruit salad.
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Although burning passion burnsBrighter than the blinding sunThe passion is for what was said,what goes unsaid, in uninspiredfightless love.The passion..
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totally forgot about this poem, i wrote it months ago and just found it. for the few lines that are in Spanish, i gave translations below.
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Today I will tell you one of my darkest memories. A very specific and recent memory of the day that changed everything. I will never forget the day h..
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The air sparkled with the rush of commerce and tingled with anticipation. Jewelry-sellers displayed showily in one smelly corner, pottery merchants s..
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The raindrops falling from the abismal sky onto my bald head were like individual clocks, counting down the time I had with each plop. I had left Dha..
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Bump. Bump. Every little crack in the road caused our tiny, tin-pot car to shake like a bull had rammed into its side. I grumbled under my breath and..
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I returned back to the Cherlot house preoccupied and avoided Vivi's concerned questions. Truthfully, I was terrified of going back outside this after..
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