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Monday, 6 June 2016

Poem: Misconception

She waits for the door to open, 
As her cool wine turns warm; 
There is no sign of him, 
As the diner's lights dimmen. 

She fumes, and the heat from her anger, 
Shatters her hopeful heart; 
She has no idea at all that he is, 
Lying in the snow pooled in blood. 

copyright © 2016 thearcticstar

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