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collin
Poems
Jan 2022
blue aura
the wick burnt out with no more wax to melt
i watch the picture frame go dark and quiet
no more memories and the fire that i felt
was as cold as the asphalt on which i slept
Written by
collin
30/M/coming home.
(30/M/coming home.)
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ryn
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Indeed
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Falling Up
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reignier and wren
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Adaley June
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