aosid's Diaryland Diary

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not an island or a prize
but a song and a sigh

we spun round valley curves with
two tires on the road

rain streaked in our eyes
smoke streamed out every window

we screamed along to narrow stairs
and all agreed to skip the end

we were cackling kings and lonely drunks
and all i could think was everlong

11:14 p.m. - 2013-05-18

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