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T R S
Poems
Oct 2019
Hen Drips
Flanging on the fingertips of a fire,
While tipping out music,
To the holy goddess of desire.
She's the hottest girl,
that ever was.
She holds a guitar,
and that's not fair
because, how can we be cooler?
You took it all from me.
My life is a haze of social acceptance that I will never see.
Written by
T R S
29/M
(29/M)
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