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Nov 2019
you made me feel like the hundred acre wood
and then you slowly rot my oaks where they stood
you burned the grass
soaking my soil with redbull and whisky
the maple sweet syrup you once adored now you find too sticky

I don't know you anymore and that is good.
Better than the falseness of your wind blowing through my wood.
Caro
Written by
Caro
127
     Fawn and Bogdan Dragos
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