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Apr 2016
The angel fell and her pure white wings are turning black,
the way that things are now has got me wishing I could turn time back.
I'd unsay so many things, and I'd do so many more,
I'd live so very differently if I knew what life had in store.
But for now I'll sit alone, and dream of a purer day,
what was the point in anything, we stopped talking anyway.
The Last Wordsmith
Written by
The Last Wordsmith  New Zealand
(New Zealand)   
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