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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2221665
Sometimes, folks use any excuse to leave.
the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard
is a train whistle blowing by
like a promise of new fortune and liberation,
it’s providence
and on a cool crisp morning
that’s still dark as night
it calls to me, lures me out
from between these sheets
and quick like that train passing by
I’m gone
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