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Israel Alderete
Poems
Jun 2022
Routine
I hold in my hands the last of you I'll ever know
You seep through my fingers tips
And with the wind, you go
And as you go to join the fray
Of lovers lost
I wonder,
what was I to you
A liberator
A traitor
Or a friend
You're all so different
But all the same
In the end.
Very tired
Written by
Israel Alderete
20/M
(20/M)
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