Thursday, 12 November 2015


Their dreams were crushed, then packed tightly into colostomy cups. For thirty or more years they wrote their best, until the only thing that couldn't've fallen further was their crests. They once stood proudly, but now are stooped, they subsist cowedly too scared to even use their facebook group. Perhaps before they die they'll start a trend, but more than likely they'll die alone, mourned only by their example friends.

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