Rate the poem that i write when i was 18

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The night, the pharmacy, the street,
The pointless lamppost in the mist.
A quarter century recedes –
There’s no escape. It all persists.

You’ll die – and you’ll begin anew,
As in the past, all will repeat:
The icy channel flowing through,
The lamp, the pharmacy, the street.

@Gargantuan @GandyIsNormie @subhuman incel @eduardkoopman
 
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