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The clock ticks as the air grows thick. Big City nights need Big City lights to burn with no end in sight. "Where does all the smoke go? Surely, it flies when the wind blows." Away to the next town, then back around. It does not leave our skies despite political lies. So we huff and puff because lungs today must be be tough. | Original Photo by @Michael Dziedzic on @Unsplash | Words by Grey of thegreypointofview.com