This place a fray.
Afraid to stay too long,
belong some otherwhere.
The weary words still ring among
a mongrel crowd all pale,
all paying with adaptation.
They shun my crystal clear
all clear and cool ambition,
wishing nothing more than
modern comfort and numb peace,
dumb piece of dreamless dreams,
as streams still strident,
identity sternly stripped,
ripped clean, full of nowhere
to wear down this place.
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