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Jan 2019
Grit down deep, the final dregs
Looks like I've lost sleep again
Burning fumes, and barking dogs
With hopeless reminiscing

Home is where my pillow is
And not where I can find a friend
So why spend time still wondering
If luck had never left me
Rowan S
Written by
Rowan S  26/US
(26/US)   
181
 
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