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Apr 2011
As the windows roll down,
The wind blows in,
The cold crawls up my arm,
And spreads like butter,
Engulfing the surface of my being.

The wind blows in and freezes the car,
The time stops and the moment stands still,
The night is young, but eager

The moon and stars frown
As I tuck myself to bed at night,
It’s still young, and hungry for life.
Β© Matthew Albert Perry, 2011
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