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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Other · #1156636
Follow me.
Just Nothing.

I'll play my guitar
a sad, sad song
I'll make her sing
of how I can't move on.

When the sky turns to grey
and the leaves all fall down
she'll be singing my song
with no one around.

So when my breath catches fast
in the back of my throat
and when it creeps out
like a white gasp of smoke

I'll be making a trail
with my notes and my song
for any poor fuck
who follows along.
© Copyright 2006 Charlie Fiinigan (charlie_f at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1156636-Just-Nothing