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Leaves

I went looking for God

but I found you instead.

Bad luck or destiny,

you decide.

 

Buried in the muck,

the soot of the city,

sorrow for an appetite,

devil on your left shoulder,

angel on your right.

 

You, with your thorny rhythms

and tragic, midnight melodies.

 

My heart never tried

to commit suicide before.

l
Written by
Lisa Zaran
1969 / American
Lines·Words
13·55
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