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Lo
Poems
Apr 2013
Alone.
I sit at home alone.
I wait for my mother.
I long for my brother.
I cry for my father.
Silently.
But still I sit.
Drowning out life.
Yearning for eye contact.
It's a very very dangerous thing.
But oh, how lovely it becomes. So, so lovely.
Written by
Lo
MURICA
(MURICA)
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