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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#104131voted by our readers
By Christi Johnson BRONZE
Park City, Utah
I looked at the old wooden door. Watched as you slammed it. Watched as you left me. I wrapped my arms around my shaking legs. Holding the only thing I believed to be real...
Park City, Utah
I looked at the old wooden door. Watched as you slammed it. Watched as you left me. I wrapped my arms around my shaking legs. Holding the only thing I believed to be real...