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Jan 12
Watch your last tears fall
Crashing upon your death bed
Drew the last of wine from the well
Repeating the last words you said.

So kiss me goodbye
A cold lesson learned
God knows i try
I can't stay here
This fine wine has turned

The wilting grapevine
I must go
Nothing to drink anymore
embattled in an emotional postwar decline.
This strength I must find
like walking a tightrope on a fault line.

Go off and find
your well in the sand.
You fantasy and my bad dreams
Your mirage and your man.
The unlucky and the ******.
Trying to quench their thirst
with the dead streams in quicksand.
Written by
Burlone  45/M/NYC
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