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Jan 2015
the wind blows grey clouds
past my window
blocking my view
                     of you
by the time they disperse
all that's left
are footprints in the mud
and a wisp of smoke
from where you were standing

my eyes told me you were real
but my mind questions this

but all i have as proof
is a muddy footprint
                  and smoke up my ***.

such a shame.
susan
Written by
susan  chicago
(chicago)   
248
   ---, r, ---, JDK, Vanessa Gatley and 4 others
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