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Nov 2010
There is a never ending winding street
That crumbles beneath the feet
Of lies and hate that ive created
To better fit within this fix
That I call nothing more than a piece
That’s broken from the heart you held
The one that lays there fragmented before my face
My eyes overcasting the idea that we may someday be
Put back together by glues we secrete
Written by
Erin Dickerson
479
 
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