T.S. said: "We are the hollow men, the stuffed men".Here we are…
"Whispering with dried voices that are so quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass.
Or in our cellar, rats feet over broken glass…a shape without form".
"Whispering with dried voices that are so quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass.
Or in our cellar, rats feet over broken glass…a shape without form".
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