All I have to talk about Is myself And you don't let me know you And you run your fingers over my hand And I run up the stairs And I hide under the table And you are already too familiar And I am already myself a stranger.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem because I lost my Pez dispenser and it
played host to many other confusing things that happened
in the last 2 weeks, it just was that proverbial straw.
And I am finding out that a lot of people lie.
Birth sign: Not entered
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