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Saturday, July 2, 2011 7:47 AM
The hours felt like days, bit by bit I grew impatient for night to fall, for our meeting, for our talk.
Short exchanges grew to conversations I got hooked on,
I could share everything, you could too, and slowly the nights seemed to grow shorter, by then we said our goodbyes. Lest I knew, wayward it would be, if you left. Please tell me you'll stay, I'm a wreck.
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Glenden
17 years old
Poet and Dancer
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