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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#226401voted by our readers
By Anonymous
Moving is like losing an arm. When I start packing I just want to cry and unpack my stuff and stay. When I am on the road I look out the window and see that my house is far far...
Moving is like losing an arm. When I start packing I just want to cry and unpack my stuff and stay. When I am on the road I look out the window and see that my house is far far...