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Oct 2013
He crooned soft and slow
Bringing the harsh truth to light
The ghosts of my past
They haunt me like the rest of them
I've never begged them to leave
Your sublime words were a worn blanket
They kept me warm for passing weeks
Before fading just like your smile
Mine is becoming more jaded every morning.
Erica Winter
Written by
Erica Winter  Maryland
(Maryland)   
456
   Nat Lipstadt and Ryan Kerr
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