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she called it magic

after the alcohol

rots our insides and

the morning sunrise

stings our eyes and

the fact that we didn't die

today, after all of that, there's still

smiles to see and

similies to say and

hope that the weather'll change and

the gusty wind won't blow our thoughts away.

 

well anyway.

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Written by
modelb0nes
Canadian
Published
Mar 12, 2014
Lines·Words
11·51
Notes

there are lyrics mixed in this poem.

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