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Hannah Sams

As i brush the hair from my face

i see it, in a reflection.

tiny whispers of past dreams,

a beacon, a calling.

 

Hold on, i may be falling

straight through this life

and down to yours.

its funny the things you think of in times like these

 

i don't think i coulds say please

any more than i do.

i just want you home

before this thought fades

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Written by
daniel-august
American
Published
Aug 16, 2010
Lines·Words
12·69
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