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Arcade, Jukebox

Mediocrity,

Life unmoved.

Is it really all so true?

If I know

My life is bland,

Does it change

Where I stand?

Arcade, Jukebox,

Floor covered in dust.

I can feel my eyes

Growing rust.

I can’t help it,

I’m romantic,

I’m unoriginal.

Ain’t nothing worse than that.

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Written by
haley-rome
American
Published
Feb 24, 2013
Lines·Words
15·48
Permission

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