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Poetic T Sep 2019
We live on the same street,

but you anit nothing like me,


This isn't a 12A,
    The kids in this will **** you for


disrespecting the other side of the street..


Eternal outlaws, as kids we knocked and run
                                    each others doors..

But i knock your door,
          you lucky if you survive,

              the third knock that is off the safety...
  

A hole fills your vacant look, holes at the front,

                    smudges that cant clean off your regrets..


I'll knock your memory into the past..

          mothers will cry.. but you'll never realise


that we aren't just one street.


But you look at me wrong, I'll knock some sense
                   into your frame..

Bruised moments..

You cross my gaze,
                   my street…
                               I'll make the black
vison of bow heads grace the road..

   But you'll not see,

             your the one closed eyed,
                                     while others weep...

— The End —