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Dara Slick
Poems
Nov 2017
I can't Concentrate.
I played each game,
I finished strong.
We talk about things I have little interest in,
I want it to end.
I can smell the cool air from the back of the room,
and I can't wait to embrace it entirely when I exit.
It smells like snow and family time,
if that could be a smell.
It smells,
like an addiction.
Addicted to sadness and love as a team.
#oddaddictions
#thefinal
#months
Written by
Dara Slick
22/F/Savannah
(22/F/Savannah)
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