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Jan 2016
A time where all the mountains meet,
my soul cried out to my heart; trying to break clean.
To late to be. To tired to sleep. I cried myself to a bottle, cheap.
A cheating, a lie, a sweet bitter cry.
I called him out, all he did was lie.
His mind not caring, my tears not dry,
our feelings drying out in the moon that's too high.
Kaitlyn Goode
Written by
Kaitlyn Goode
325
   Woody and Bianca Reyes
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