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Summer Love
May 23, 2008
A soft whisper in my ear,
as sweet as an ice cream cone,
on a sunny dayy.
It fills my ears,
floating like clouds in my head,
come out and play
tauntingly.
Picking away at my sanity,
building and constructing my vanity,
like a construction worker,
or an opera conductor.
A gentle voice plays the rhythm of my heart-
upon my ribcage,
An angel sits in front row.
Anthony.
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