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Now picking up the pieces, From a heart full of bruises Dementia, pain and depression, Saturate my heart extension. She was a walking rainbow, I saw when the sun went low. She was a rare specie around town, Which I did not realize until now. Just like a sugary fleeting vine, Made she my life a tasteless wine. Every night I sit and ask the moon, Why did she have to leave so soon. I wish I could turn back the clock to gain; Her, I will be willing to take a bullet, through my brain.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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Date: 2/16/2016 3:18:00 PM
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Date: 12/2/2014 4:43:00 AM
Great piece of poetry Jacob. thanks
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