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Rated: E · Poetry · Ghost · #1435611
Things aren't always what they seem
Look at the view,
What can I see,
A figuere creeping,
Wait that's me.

That's me knocking,
At that door.
And thats me being greeted,
That's for sure.

That's me talking,
Be friendly & kissed.
That's me being led upstairs,
A it's me the door just missed.

That's me embracing,
Looking at the sea.
And that kid that just fell out the window,
You know thats me.

That's me yelling for help,
Echoing on the sea.
The moonlight in her face,
All of that is me.

But the boy on the bed,
watching the girl try to flee,
the evil look on his face,
that's not me.

That's not me climbing out the window,
Taking one last look on the sea,
Before sliding down in the moonlight,
No that is definatly not me.

That's not me,
On my bike,
Ridding up to the moontains,
To start a new life.
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