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Apr 2017
i'm getting tired of it,
waking up once a day,
feeling dead and forever unpleasant.
i love too much,
i'm not much pride to swallow.
let your roots grow into me,
feel yourself waste away.
we wept, sea between beds,
always but a dream never to be seized,
nothing is forever.
this topic was hell.
i genuinely dislike most of my poetry.
have a nice day.
david mitchell
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david mitchell  24
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