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poem


Submitted:May 9, 2012    Reads: 11    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


He said, "mama I'ma take a trip down to California",

the sights and scenery are calling out my name,

The pretty girls and nights to remember,

but the bay is where I'll lay my truth

A pretty little secret,

between me and the lampshade,

your not the one to blame,

I was never one for this life,

no wound is worth healing,

It's just me and the Golden Gate,

I've never been deceiving,

only hard to understand.

the night is dark,

it's darker than he'd planned,

nobody there to watch him fall,

as he steps up to the ledge,

he becomes weak in the knees,

turns his back to the fall below his feet,

and lets himself dissolve into the sea.





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