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It Happens All the Time

No matter how close I get I can't hold a grip. The more I squeeze the more you slip. They look like strong hands but just understand. You slip right through like grains of sand. No matter how hard I try, I can't make you mine. These words I write ; to you are just scribbles in a line. ... And it happens all the time.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things