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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Experience >> ID #657275 |
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Upstairs in my little room,
Your smell haunts my mind. The house is a place of tar and smoke, Withont a breath of fresh air to find. Little Jamie adores you, She would copy everything you do. I bet you will never tell her, About the cancer results that camr through. I heard you on the phone, The words you spoke to school. Apparently Jamie took to it, Because she thought YOU were cool. I wil hate you forever, Because of you Jamie is dead. Because of you i am affected, Because of you i only see red. Why could you not see? The pain you put us all through. Now you are the broke one, And the facts about the smoking came true.
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