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Aug 2018
Snift into my mind,
as she passed me far behind
floating on petals,
just get old,
in loves special way
her hair turning grey as mine,
her lips red so full.
I should try to take her out,
let life take its course,
cry to my self later, as she puts me out
like a burning ***,
still smouldering in the ashtray of life,
man I am old
not white but grey.

Grey Nickers.
Love P@ul ***.
Paul Hardwick
Written by
Paul Hardwick  64/M/England
(64/M/England)   
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