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Daan
Poems
May 2014
M
Her smell is stuck, my nostrils flare,
the clothes she will always wear,
the closed kindness to scare,
not a friend spare,
Oh where?
When will I?
Who would want to?
How will something be
just quite different but the same,
so I can start off yet another game,
Written by
Daan
Belgium
(Belgium)
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ChloΓ©
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