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Oct 2010
I say,
Put the knife back in the drawer.
I say,
They will throw nice things out
eventually.
I say,
When they do that,
you will have everything.

Lately,
I have been wondreing
what would happen if I
stop looking through
the trash?
Maybe someone else could
redecorrate their living room.
Maybe I could get a living room,
then sit and write bad poetry.

Put the knife back in the drawer.
My arm hurts in the places where
I did not cut it.
I did  not cut it.
I did not cut it, (or so I felt), in the field of poetry. Maybe...maybe someone will prove me wrong.
Written by
Shana Dukes
793
     D Conors
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