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Second hand love:
Have I come this far to be a second hand love?
where is my rose, where is my morning smile,
where is my goodnight kiss and
where is my number one guy.
If we never talk about it
Then I won't have to realize my greatest fear that

*You don't love me anymore
Kiss me until
all the metaphors
vanish and poetry
becomes reality.

  ~mce
rp
When i say goodbye
Don't wait for my reawakening
Because i am already dead
My sense can't vindicate
What i am!
Poetry is too
"Norm" these day's;
And I don't plan
Being normal,
I like the strange, the weird
Anyone canst be normal
But canst thou be strange?



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
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