Guest
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growroom
IP:
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There’s a hum that Id hear, when I come down the stairs
Buzzing lights heat the air, Busy fans fight to clear
Vib’ing airpumps accompany, like an anthem of hardware
Where autumn is held for ransom, and compelled to blossom near all year
But now it’s all gone, down there it’s as quiet as a stare
Sometimes I still forget, and its silence makes me scarred
At times, I find I’m down there, guided by habit, unaware
No ph recheck, no nutes to refresh, nothing needs my care
Sometimes I’m woke up suddenly, most cold torturous nights
And will look for the warm glow, of my sodium orange lights
As I focus towards the door, for a moment they’re still alive
Til I’m forced to realize its over, like it’s the first fuckin time.
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