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willow sophie
Poems
Apr 2019
the orange café
The café smelled of scones and coffee,
to wake up and smell the coffee,
ah, yes.
The record player always played classics,
the occasional static of an especially old vinyl
bringing a smile to my face.
The orange café, just quaint and small,
but you could still see the sunrise,
the sunset,
and everything in between.
It was, most definitely, the place to be.
I guarantee.
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willow sophie
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