25 december 2011
Suppose, Pretend
by Polby Saves
Moving, riding, dysthymically along
I semi-smiled at a girl on each block
Everytime we were made to stop
The attractive ones
The same broken clock
Giving the correct time twice
Once daily, again in the dark morning for twenty years
Christ
Sorry, no you don't qualify
I lied about the smile.
Polby Saves
Copyright © 1996-Present
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