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Finding Me
I was the victim
I am the killer
Of a young man I left this September
He picked me up, showed me around
This shrouded, pretty mind I'd found
Nothing else matters, I do not think
The man in red, the girl in pink
I've found myself, the first time ever
And this is the way I'll stay forever
I am the killer
I was the victim
Of a shy guy left behind that September
poem
by
Zachery Williams
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