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First thought, best thought

Crap Poetry

Experimentation.

(i sincerely apologize to all the poets out there)


I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights