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Nov 2017
Corralling my senses,
Rolling slot machines,
Softly purring words that disintegrate into empty promises,
Forget it, I'll end up smoking alone anyway.

Know your worth, what you stand for
Even what you sit for,
My *** hurts from the concrete stoop you left me on
Just a pack of cigarettes?

It's the final word,
Finally focusing,
What brought me here in the first place.

Love lost, love gained, love dropped
For the bright lights of a Vegas skyline

"No", to answer your question

"We can't be friends."

The new one is a nurse,
Ironic really.
She can mend a broken being and a bone.
Frank Sherwood
Written by
Frank Sherwood  26/M/Florida
(26/M/Florida)   
  419
   Lior Gavra, Miro, Glassmuncher and Shannon
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