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The Pawn
August 31, 2010
Here we go.
Nothing to win.
Spiraling down the face of sin.
Lies never told.
Souls being sold.
To a place where your hopes are held on a whim
I love him so.
I beg for him to not go.
But instead I hold my tongue.
Because his happiness means more
I fade away and loose myself.
And continue to play the game.
To a boy who slipped to fame.
© Scott R., Casco, MI
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