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An experiment in photorealism. The computer screen contains a poem that I wrote:

He had no mouth, nor eyes, nor legs

And yet he sang, and wept, and danced

About the things that he has seen

And of the prison he had been

About the grass, and rain, and beams

And of the one within his dreams

The one that called him struck of stars

The only one dared touch his scars

Who had rose petals for a pony

And moved like only god himself could make her worry

But as the night crawled out of bed

And when he realized he was dead

Then only one thing left to do

Before his red-haired wakes up too

To send a prayer to all the heavy-hearted fellows

And all the silver-eyed wolves lurking in the meadows

He said at least I tried, at least I cared

At least I outshine all the living dead

At least I met her between nightmares

He said at least I gave it all, you black-tailed monsters


Old Writer's Desk



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