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Feb 2020
I thought it will be
A nowhere leading road,
a small puddle in the sun.
My hope grew with every sight,
every touch, every kiss.
My hope killed me,
your fortune was
to leave me,
to take my life.
I am tortured infinitely
day by day, more and more.
Hope to pass away,
repenting my sins,
paying my dues,
being punished
for what’ve you done.
Kuba
Written by
Kuba  17/M/Poland
(17/M/Poland)   
192
 
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