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Theresa Marie Laron
Poems
Oct 2016
one
It's not that cold
but I tremble
It's not yet evening
but quite dark outside
TheΒ Β same feeling when I'm not in rush
but I want them to hurry,
I'm the first one to arrive
but the last one they accommodated.
one word, ****.
Written by
Theresa Marie Laron
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