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Oct 2013
No fame or fun
When words are sung
Hardly Spring until it's sprung

These polite words are scared of heights
They fall back from my tongue
Down my throat
Into my blackened lungs

Only to remain unknown by you
But known too well by me

Until a shallow breath of air
Pushes them back up
And turns them into a gamble of rambles
Abrupt and corrupt.
Ryan Topez
Written by
Ryan Topez  Australia
(Australia)   
553
   Dylan Lavercombe, --- and ---
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