I used to think,
|
"I've never been through it,
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the deaths and stuff that make us old enough."
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Old enough to love a boy whose name I still don't know.
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We traded voices, blurted accidents.
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Brutal winter froze through spring's slow crawl.
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In The summers burn, the impending fall.
|
|
-----------------
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Sorrow's End....
|
| Far |
