What about the brown eyed girls?
More by Amelia_v
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Dull Roar
I'm so mad I can hardly write poetry anymore,
every word rushes out and tumbles down,
knocking the inside of my skull,
a dull roar that follows me to school and home again.
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Dream
You look like a poem
I wrote at night
the stars are trapped inside
those eyes of yours
and I can't seem to look away
You look like a poem
I wrote at night
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