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this a poem complaining and making fun of my misery. weirdly enough, I was the one who wrote it, too.
the problem of my long tangled hair, away, has been cut,
to myself, I look a little prettier, to everyone else I looked like a slut
then there was once a beautiful stranger,
longish hair, chinky eyes, mysterious smile…
oh yes, for him I was a sucker,
too bad he couldn’t stay any longer.
story of my life, so it seemed
the right was always wrong and the wrong was always right,
and in the midst of all this chaos, I can still bear to sleep at night.
nothing but a lonely writer, walking in the rain,
the stories that she made, were uneraseable memories of pain.
the love she thought she had, always waved goodbye,
she never gets over her former love, ni matter how hard she’ll try.
so sad no? to be continued next time!
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