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Make Out, Make War, Make Up
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The Ones I Call Poetry Like a never ending loop,
They're always at it again,
Whether it be,
That silly-sweet smile,
That wicked-lip,
Or that apologetic tone,
Wishing it would all get better,
(Without each other it can't be)
They're too caught up in it all,
They can't hear me,
But they can feel each other,
One way or another.
