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2 a.m
December 11, 2011
Late at night, when all are asleep
A quite voice, shimmering in my head,
Corresponding with the small sheep's.
Delaying the trip to amend,
All the stress of the world,
That happens to be pinning me down.
Drifting to another orb,
But that small voice is making me drown.
If sleep would contain me, i'd be in bliss,
Why can i not stop thinking about that kiss?
© Gianna V., Sewell, NJ
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