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Kyra Rae
Poems
Apr 2011
Young
How old are we?
Too young to remember.
We're stupid people
person, I am a little girl
quivering
Lunchtime! it's a calling.
I am sure of my steps, they grieve as I do
under the matte color of peach
is a ****** mess.
Swearword, swearword, swearword. Slap.
Written by
Kyra Rae
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