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I hope to take you away from reality for a few minutes.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

poem

The stains upon the window were everlasting
The dirt stained like a scar upon skin
My sorrows were forever
And are starting to begin
Again

The touch of rain upon the face
Walking evermore in the shadow
We will never find our own place
On this ground, forever hallowed

Poets die and writers fade
But billionaires have it made
Remember, if anything more
Only you can remember them
Lock and Key
Set and stone

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