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This is a very short poem. A roadwide storeroom? Yes. A store room cornered in everyone's house never touched, probably dusty or maybe clean. So I'm not a very good poet aside, but I'll try my best. The store room. There is a room in everyone's house, not touched, not disturbed down there, dusty and unentered. But has all the Polaroids and the memories hidden, untouched for centuries
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