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That night after a little wine, You said! Lets close the door, Lets play a game, Where you,l be the master, And il be the slave to blame, As the game would be over, We,l make love insane. The game as it started seemed disguised, Your vision was wicked, And your actions did not seem so wise, Your fist was clenched, As your first punch came to my chest, Your eyes were red, When you banged my head, You lifted me from the ground, by puling the bunch of hair on my head, U twisted and hurled me unt
This rain smells the same, But it is not felt the same anymore, Your tender wrinkled hands are missed, As well as those new criss-crosses in the corner of your eyes, Which appeared deeper and deeper with every day pasing by, that melody in your feeble voice, and the bitter worldly truths u mastered to hide , beneath your fantasy world of stories, where the evil always met a painful demise, and with each day i saw your tiny beautiful bun growing snowy white, your stories play aroun
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