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Cold.
The sands of time left long dark lines in the corners of my
Eyes
And the water droplet memories shift slowly in my
Mind
My thoughts run astray like the ghostly fingers of smoke from
The ash tray
And my mood, like the clouded sky outside, begins to turn
Dark gray
The yellow hue of my fingernails reminds me of my
Childhood dreams
And the cords and the strings that hold together my body parts
Fall apart—like a doll, at its seams.
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