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A writer's emotion
Waking up this morning, i think of you
looking up, the skies turn blue.
Waiting for you thru noon
i long for the light of moon.
Drifting alone, thinking of you
my memory sticks like glue.
Come home to me, come to me soon
Let it be after noon
when the night steals day
ideal time for words to say
'more words be born tonight'
my pen is my might.
