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Why do we call apples, apples,
When we can call them oranges?
Why do we call spoons, spoons,
Instead of forks?
Why do you want her,
When it could be me?
YOU ARE READING
Silence and Bass
Poetry[COMPLETED] The silence was too deafening so I wrote them in tattered torn pages with jagged lines. Poems I wrote even in my sleep. The ink in my pen profusely bleeding out words and stories from my past that shaped my present and makes me anticipa...
