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Tripping up the storefront stairs
With grimmish face and grimmer daresby blaiyne 27 lines, on Oct 26 11:48 PM -
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It's not that I love you less, / It's just that I hate you more. / I know I still dream of you, yes, / But I could never forgive a whore. /
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To some, books are air—
A necessity to live. -
I was walking home on a snowy day
When the definition of beauty came my way. -
A free bird sings a song so bright
That erupts from the sky in the pale moonlight -
Nature’s sweet blossom
Opens -
I watched them die.
brby blaiyne 44 lines, 4 comments, on Nov 29 6:43 PM 2006. In Angst, Contemporary, Personal, War, Experience -
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