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Dear old pipe


..... And there I was on my porch, rocking myself up and forth to the rhythm of an unknown melody. Unknown to myself and to the world.
🗑️
My gaze was fixed on the bridge that leads to my hut; while I smoked my pipe with the hopes that the fire I inhale will penetrate my lungs to my heart.
Oh yes burn!
🗑️🗑️
Dear pipe whom I smoke, burn it all. Because every fibre of my heart has been murdered. Murdered by my own imaginations and the deeds of men; disrespect and betrayal. 
Oh yes, burn it all! 
🗑️🗑️🗑️
When it is well cremated, do not worry about the chars. They will escape through my pores and valves.
Dear old pipe whom I smoke, burn it all.
🗑️🗑️🗑️🗑️

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