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Apr 2015
I remember that day.
He had a white mustang
and I had cherry lips.
And he wanted much more than a kiss,
But I had never done anything more.
And it really wasn't a kiss.
It was more like a make out session.
And it didn't get very heated,
Because he wasn't good.
And I wasn't into it.
And he stole my gum,
And I didn't want him...
I wanted her.
Reminiscing about the first girl I like somehow through this poem. Kudos to you, Jordan.
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