It does not add up on some days.
The drone goes on ‘tween the ears .Existence is a few heads bobbing up on the blue space beyond the spiked gate.
A mere serious girl clicks her shoes on the waking ground in oval motion after midnight crows pierced a night waiting for tomorrow’s early dawn .A seller man is sitting under the lake trees spilling beans on the red and blue bags.
It does not surely add up on some days.
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