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A Poem by Ripped Denim 💜

A crisp, moonless night,

wayward tears blot out my sight.

And still I wonder,

wonder at the light,

why the coldness holds me tight.

Sea of stars a blur.

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Added on January 20, 2014
Last Updated on January 20, 2014

Bad backwards is dab. Dabble. Like a bad haiku. I dabble in bad. more..