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Ann Beaver
Poems
Sep 2013
Check more often
Put on more layers
Until no one knows what came first
The chicken or the egg
Neither, last time I checked.
And if you aren't careful
With that bomb you hold in your heart
It'll destroy you slowly
From anticipation.
Precipitation runs down
The cheeks of this town
And no where feels like home.
Written by
Ann Beaver
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