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Jul 2013
Red light blinking
Hopelessly thinking
This may never turn green
Of all his sayings mean,
Which did I love the most?
Sarcastically boast
I can't pick just one.
I set them free
Like helium balloons
I stare at the sun until I can't see
What it was you wanted me to be.
Ann Beaver
Written by
Ann Beaver
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