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Red Hair, Don't Care

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I could wind up in the city,
friendless, alone and without
bother; quiet nights,
music and art, peaceful drinking,
starlit sky and the night is mine.

I could paint pictures,
write poems. Dine with
the rich and party with
the famous.

Feed my head a thousand
novels, films, and
songs. Understand life, and
roll around in it – getting it everywhere.

But,
for the girl with the electric red hair:

My dreams, they’d fly
away like wisping sand
if I were to be granted
the chance to hold your hand.



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