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Deserted
at Summer
Strident
strings echo the notes.
Vented
voices shout the sound.
Mildewed
melodies, float
Sleeping;
senses that come round.
Prompting
people mill like flies.
Flourishing
films are being made.
Aesthetic
audience, sighs
Gasping;
gasps cannot be bade.
Endless
emptiness has come.
Noiseless
nights of summer sun.
Unfounded
umbrellas, some
Circling;
carriages of fun.
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