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Inside the Street (undone)

I live in the street of somethings,
I live 30 feet
beneath the street.
It scares me sometimes.
 
Life rests its crest,
on me, the living sheep.
I deem it irredeemed,
worthy of the worldly rest.
 
I sleep in the day and
I play in the night,
Outta sight, outta mind
gotta find the time to materialize.
 
The inspiration’s all run out,
the thoughts have done dried,
I am a friend to the world
that I have sojourned so well.
 
Fare thee well, travelers

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