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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Opinion >> ID #655609 |
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Sittin'
In a room alone. Workin' Through the night. Nearly Four in the mornin'. Wantin' To make things right. She knew The amount she made. Countin' Every dime. Believin' It'll keep her happy. Just by Gettin' high. She said Time and time again. With that Desire to quit. One thing Led to another. All it was Just another trick. A joke Not very funny. It's killed Before. But those guys Kept callin'. The desire More. They Not the dealers. But where That old cash is from. What will happen Once the Johns aren't callin'. She found them lustin' A younger one. Then Is it time. Or just a recession Has the addict retired While… Death waits.
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