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years of sand
washed up on beaches
formed into castles
by hands
and run out again,
beauty temporary,
perhaps once only
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in many ways
still young
on my way to work
sitting on my futon
what is it about tourists?
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United We Stand
Divided We Fall
Geez that Building is Fricking Tall
Ghetto Creamcheese
Media Fast
But is it art?
Songs To Think About Girls To
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