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Nov 2014
Hot
My voice explodes from within my soul,
hatred stemming from my broken heart,
blinded by smoke from your heart of coal,
wondering how we tore apart.
While fire emanated from our love,
the heat became too hot to handle,
I should wear a glove when holding you,
but my insatiable hunger I cannot resist.
You are the dinner I have slaved for,
a great idea, soon to be a chore.
Like a child biting a hot meal,
only to be reprimanded by mother,
a kiss from you I will steal,
even if the smoke does smother.
MST
Written by
MST  Leipzig
(Leipzig)   
770
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