Lint 8 Ball

My spoon is full my bags are bursting,
yet more and more the dope fiend in
me is thirsting.
So once again I hit the floor,
combing each strand hoping to
find just a little more.
The sun it will rise.
The moon it will fall,
and all I have is my 
glorious lint 8 ball.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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May 12, 2016 at 10:05 AM
Ashley, creative and well done. Thank you for sharing. **SKAT**
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