Manuscripts

That was it
He gathered his pipe and retired to his cottage
Thought of the money/health wasted on ill repute
And thought how he wasted the other half
He turned his kerosene lamp to ail the dusk
Looked blankly lost at first
But started with an old pad scribbling by hand
The cat had his tongue at that moment
A mouth full of stitches
In to the night, he poured
This marked the code or scripts had begun.

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