office

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tired

 feet sit on the grey patched carpet

 silence cuts like a sword

 clicks and taps, outdoor rush

 winds a mad siren, feint in the background

 taps turned on their own

tired

be alone on your own

 bag under feet over

 anger drilling a hole

 mashed on a dinner plate

 men crushed on the oily rope

 girl froze by the dirty moat

 madness

 colour turned grey

 white sapped out of your eye

 madness

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