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William Crowe II
Poems
Aug 2014
12:47
It is
12:47 P.M.
and I am drunk
as a dog.
The gin tastes
like the forest,
the beer like
the alley.
But I can feel
your pretty gray eyes
right down the street
staring at me,
wondering why I've
done this to myself.
In high school I
seemed so clean,
so pure. I guess I
fooled you, though.
Written by
William Crowe II
Georgia, USA
(Georgia, USA)
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