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The Cup

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There’s a cup I “borrowed”,
From a pizza place with my
Friends. 
Everytime we go there,
We each take a cup.
We don’t do it because we hate them.
I like to think we do it because,
Later on in life,
We’ll look at those cups,
And remember back to when life was easy.
Back to when we were just a group of dumb kids,
Stealing cups from restaurants.
And when we remember those times,
We’ll remember each other.






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