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Jul 2010
Busy busy...
Fake it.
Write a line and steal a vow.
Wreck the moment,
Wreck the instance...
Come into focus when I'm about to run.
Last minute reveries,
Last second thoughts.
Last time for chances,
Last call for the alcohol.

No chance for time.

Intrepid healer,
Skillful physician,
Intimate playmate,
No aide.
Memory won't serve you well,
Though in memory
I stand a chance to run.
I'll play doctor
But I'll actually have success.
I'll fit into a role
And I'll not make a mess.
I'll disappear but I'll always be here...

I'll wander to places that hold more
Hope.
And dream of stars that reside
In our realm.

No chance,
No time,
No seconds,
No lasts.
Written by
Miguel Ponton
617
   Ari
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