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Feb 2015
the chilling arbitrarities
of steps and thoughts and fallacies
the colors of the changing leaves
are tired warning signs

when each and every passing dawn
rips through me like a lover's yawn
I lay alone the curtains drawn
with consolation bled and gone
I can't escape the lie
*I'll miss you when you die
Joe Hill
Written by
Joe Hill  30/M/St. Paul, MN
(30/M/St. Paul, MN)   
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