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Dying time

Tick tock, tick tock, i'm 
running out of time, 
my burning heart has 
turned to white and 
nothing else, but lime. 
Could this be it? Could 
this be the very end, 
you've turned me 
down a hundred 
times and i've become 
your friend. While i 
lay here upon my bed 
i think of eyes that 
gleam and when i 
tear for i have been 
misled by lights and 
beams, your heart is 
pure like wool as 
white that's sin is 
washed away, i'll let 
you go , for you said 
so as night has turned 
to day.

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  1. Date: 2/21/2013 10:18:00 AM

    Nicely wriiten James and welcome to Poetrysoup.. Looking forward to read more poems by you .. Have a good day :)