Childhood
A childhood of swings
Seesaws, slides, and sandboxes.
And mine were snails, puppies and mud.
When fate the two of us
Together brings
Time came for us to grow up.
Thirty one
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Metaphors of an Alcoholic
PoetryIt's because you consist of a lot of metaphors even the greatest poets can't write down. You don't deserve to be written down after all, only loved because you are a metaphor yourself. In love or broken, these metaphors are perfectly fueled by alcoh...