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by Georgette
50 lines,
on Nov 19 3:58 PM 2007
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He whispers morning-lullabies, sluggishly,
and finds that everything looks different in the daylight.
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by Georgette
81 lines, 15 comments,
on Jul 5 11:16 AM 2007
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There were songs about it, afterward. / They were built up to be masterpieces, but they were no more, / no more than the silence of the pos
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I / You're half mad, they say. / You play piano because you're possessed, / and you speak to kindle love in all the losers in life. / But what we all were surprised at was that
by Georgette
53 lines, 1 comment,
on May 24 4:06 PM 2007
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/ / / I / / / / / / / She never wanted to be there, stale and sitting on your mother's wall, / pressing flowers in her hand and lips between her teeth. / Some things weren't meant to be
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/ / / It wasn't an accident like you made us all believe. / You were hung like a fallen leave caught half-way down, / the back of your c
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Doctor, Doctor, find me a boy
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