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Colorfulpen
Poems
May 2013
Late
I always laugh at inappropriate times
there's never any reason or rhyme
why I'm fashionably late
and can't stand to wait
or why, as close as we are,
your nearness seems far.
Had we met before this day,
what would fate say?
That I'm always
a little too little, too late.
Written by
Colorfulpen
Texas
(Texas)
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Gwen Johnson
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Frank Cotolo
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