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Oct 2017
The notes are lower than my emotions.
The instruments break just like my motions.
I keep pressing the wrong keys, messing up a line.
Just like that moment I mess up my life.

Now I see why it's called a piano.
Because for me, that's a no.
And also for me, I deserve nothing.
And only the most perishing things.
Vanidy
Written by
Vanidy
115
   Monika
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