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Faults
May 10, 2013
Was it my fault, opening the door?
That lead her down the path of turning into a whore?
No insult to memory, she merely got around.
I heard what happened and I thought I drowned.
Such twisted history between us both,
Now her doom surrounds as does a moat.
Echoing calls of a crystal jaded,
Her voice now forever faded.
© Jacob W., Oklahoma City, OK
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