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Feb 20
Your mailbox grew tired of letters,
those crumpled, **** things
soaked in riddle and rhyme.

What can I say?
Only fools try closed doors,
and heaven helps no fools.

And I, a fool,
threw rocks at your window
and you left them warped on
frozen roads.

You shot me straight through the heart
and kept my head on a pike.

Didn’t they teach you
Not to **** the messenger?
Written by
Talis Ren  15/F
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