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it's not exactly poetry, it's just what i write or what i think |
From the days we struggle come the days we may...
For it is the daily obstacle and task of finding...
You have taken him,
You have taken her...
Hand in hand, we stroll down the baked sandy bay,
Our knuckles white with passion, cheeks scarlet...
Time and time again we've fought as friends,
Some days we are close and others we are...