Challenge
"Everything is a kind of dying"
Prose or poetry.
we never know
these may be the last words I write
this may be the end
now I lay me down
my pen my bed this sloppy kiss
an eighteen wheeler roars blindly through
the tunnel of love
to spin wildly on an unnamed patch of ooze
taking out everything in its way
there is a last time for everything
pour me another
one for the road
here's looking at you
here's looking at you dead
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