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Apr 2013
Lonely sorrow,
I walk alone,
Scoraching heat,
Melting what little flesh of memory i have left,
Firey stones lit up beneath my feet,
Sense of direction lost in the roasting wind,
No recelection of time not a thought from the past,
No hope for tomorrow.
Amy John
Written by
Amy John
535
   hello, Gary Muir and Nat
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