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Frankie Abraham
Poems
Mar 2015
3 o'clock
The clock strikes once.
I'm asleep but I hear it still.
The first chime goes and it sounds like this
"I"
The clock strikes again
I hold on and listen... I don't know what to expect
"Love"
The last strike of the clock is familiar.
Almost like home...yet I long for it still.
"You"
#love
Written by
Frankie Abraham
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