A Poem

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If I die before I wake

I pray for a place that is safe

Not like Heaven

Not like Hell

In a bunker or crappy motel

With the Impala roaring loud

Or that infamous TARDIS sound

I pray for the violin's soft song

A cup of tea left out for me

The familiar smile shining brightly

I pray for a purple scarf

That familiar british charm

A blue box

A paradox

Trapped in lies and mysteries

I pray for all of the dreams

All of these fantasies

I pray that all of it comes true

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