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Jan 2015
What am I to you? Am I some pawn, some marionette that you can bend and twist and break at your own command, am I some old shirt with a hole that keeps getting bigger."Oh I can fix that." Your mother proclaims but you shake your head and toss it into the trash bin without even wanting to fix it.
Tell me what am I. You use me, toy with me, break, bend, hurt, stomp on, spit at. I'm I some toy, aren't I? Left in the back yard years ago, aging, drying out,  and melting away at the heat and seasons that go by.
And all because.
I fell for **You..
Quentin House
Written by
Quentin House  Willard, MO.
(Willard, MO.)   
398
   Gunnyr Johnson
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