"Rusted"A Poem by anaisbelievei
miss the way we
used to talk now
you're always
spent working
and i
am wordless when
it comes to
you it makes me
blue a love
which hinged on
the door that
opened into the
frames of mind you
used to produce has rusted with no use. © 2011 anaisbelieve |
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Added on October 5, 2011 Last Updated on October 5, 2011 AuthoranaisbelieveAboutBoot wearing, opera singing, punk piano playing, notebook carrying girl. more..Writing
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