Please, stand on the damn line!

Loudly voices do not reach but roughly you never listened to any speech.
So, if we would ever meet again, the street will me neat, so won't i.
Even the tiptoes won't Hit the ground, nils'hoes will get rid of it won't they?
How mold May develope over time, you have crossed the line.
So here we are my heart roasted, you always posted, it later frosted and when my eyes meet yours, they will stay ghosted.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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