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Jul 2016
I was supposed to wait.
To finish my love poem when my heart burst, and clouds of sweethearts rained down from the skies.

You never gave me chance.
I'll instead wait in vain, like a wrinkling, deflated balloon that a careless child had left behind.
Poetry is no longer writing poems, more, letting words escape before I tear myself apart.
Amanda Francis
Written by
Amanda Francis
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