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Stains on my soul


to a




psychotic make

sense and the

sane laugh


but tears

still come

while the smile

fades away.

But my subtle ginger colored eyes were

warmer than the cheap excuse for coffee that

filled my stained black mug. The loveless wind

became your symphony to my ears while the

insanity created a painted image of lonli- ness

that Van Gogh never could. Happy replaced with

distraught as the coffee gets cold but inevi tably

it has to just as the valleys and mountain hills

have an up or a down. Admiration for the heart

gets you so far but remember what’s new always

gets old. Regardless of fingers fitting perfectly

in between the spaces of each other, the souls

still connect to remain eternally to each other.


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