Topic: Cold winter air | |
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My last happy memory was walking,
walking up eight concrete steps and breathing the cold winter air. Life created, life lost, bitter tongues, sweet caress. Non forgiveness of thy self, the hero a coward and pain the cure. Honest offerings turn deceitful at night, Closure brings forth a welcomed openess. A deathly silence heard by all, Who will ignore and who will answer. My last happy memory was walking, walking up eight concrete steps and breathing the cold winter air. |
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I answer, nice write!
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Very nice, Atari
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Thank you all very much!!
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nice job buddy
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