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May 30
Time is money
And all my money is spent
On the letters I typed in
and pressed delete instead of send

Wasted my recesses
on machine made black coffee,
That was as devoid of sweetness
as the empty chair opposite me

All those hours
of thinking may have been in vain
For now I crave just a minute
to gaze upon your face again
There has been no greater need of a time machine than for a poet feeling regret.
Written by
Sparrow  24/M/India
   Jules and Fawn
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