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Sep 2010
It was me that stole your light bulb
I switched it when mine blew.
And now you lie there night after night
reading by candlelight.
Slowly going blind.
I don't really mind.
How am I to know ?  you come to bed so late
my cold shoulder turned to you as I feign sleep.

You could go and buy one for yourself,
you won't.
When we're speaking again
You'll offhandedly say," would you pick up a bulb
when you're out?"
And so
it will be my problem again.
Written by
Carrie Baker
166
 
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