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Poetry

Poetry: The blues

by Marcus

Standing alone at 3 am on a moonless night.
The dirt road lies ahead of me dirty and empty.
The scorching air lingers around me.
Dirt roads are all I can see.
Ahead of me and behind me,
to the left of me and to the right of me,
the same dark dirt road stretches onward.
I can not see the end.
Darkness surrounds me.

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