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Nov 2021
A million white balloons
cover the clouds
they hide the sunrise
away from her eyes
we’veΒ breathed nine hundred thousand
and ninety-nine lies
one among the many
hides in the cries
one as pure as any
among the heavy on high
for one day they'll turn
flip like an urn full of tears
and pour down
like a crying sky
You call them white lies
My Dear Poet
Written by
My Dear Poet  M/Bottom of the Jar
(M/Bottom of the Jar)   
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