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Poor Girl
Air that she inhaled
Stabbed her heart
Ice blood running through her veins
She closed her eyes
And exhale
But her souls was empty
When the clock announced noon...
She looked at the mirror
And saw an orange jacket
Sitting on a bed of an angel
Who is he?
The tears that she had in her eyes blinded its face
A lonely heart celebrated with pains
And her tears couldn't fulfill her dreams
And her words flew with the wind
And the air that she inhaled
Stabbed her heart
Ice blood running through her veins again.
poem
by
Sandy Germain
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