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A monters

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By Maria RamonaPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read

Her eyes is always on the south and a hideous tears always coming from the south. Her mouth is a ground that always tremble and its uncomfortable. Her hair is tangled in her hands and a sharp knife on her nails. Her mind is as mess as a rat finding a chess.

nature poetrysurreal poetry

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    Written by Maria Ramona