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May 2018
a catastrophe was
somehow transformed
into a few
short moments
of bliss

a tower, fallen,
it's contents strewn
across the concrete

yet we came
and built it back up
and we stole a few
moments of solitude

our hands soiled
our minds tired
but our hearts
rejuvenated
not through flirts
or contact
or anything more than
the joy of each other's company
Another Bad Poem
Written by
Another Bad Poem  17/M
(17/M)   
269
     savarez, The Non-Poet and Triste
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