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Lisa
Poems
May 2019
Lotte
60 and swerving -
pause it there.
Throw a five,
hold my hand,
pull my hair.
Twirl me around,
I might repel.
Don't scowl,
be gentle,
be smart.
It's not semantics,
it's a worn out adage -
something about cake.
Save me a slice,
I'll eat it up.
Written by
Lisa
26/F
(26/F)
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