Hallucinations

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I take a puff of nicotine,
As the bitter night turns serene.
Letting my misery turn into thick fog.
I put the jittery hands in the air and sob,
At the very sight of the smog.
"It looks just like you" they whisper.
I look up to see myself looking back at me,
The black sheep sitting away from the flock.

Dead Roses Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora