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Rated: E · Poetry · Friendship · #1361080
A short poem written while wishing one night that I could fix a rift in a friendship.
It's eleven-ten, thirty seconds to go,
And then I'll make a wish.

Lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling,
I hope you know that I have been trying
To find a way to end this vicious cycling.

It's eleven-eleven, right on the dot,
And now I make a wish.

I thought that I knew me and that I knew you,
But now I'm thinking we weren't all that true.
I'm willing to try again if you'll try, too.

It's eleven-twelve; thirty seconds ago,
I made a wish for you.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1361080-Eleven-Eleven