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If You Don’t Find Love
In this city, you can die
In a lonely drive-by,
Blood oozing from your chest
In the dirty street
And someone will walk over you
Eating a sandwich
And never skip a beat.
If you don’t find love, one day,
You’ll suffer a funereal
Without any mourners,
Or possibly be tossed
On a garbage heap.
Things don’t look currently
That encouraging to me,
But I’m not decaying yet.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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