Math Teacher, by Loneliness is condescending
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Oh dear Mr. Spotts
How soon we’ll see your liver spots as your flesh it rots
Your skin is aging
Hair is fading
Every time you turn your back
The air I lack
The disappearance of your shining head
Fills my soul with dread
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Posted: 2005-10-01 09:12:41 UTC |
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2005-10-01 02:21:13 | ill haven |
you mean aging* and shining*
you create a picture in my mind. |
2005-10-01 09:11:47 | Loneliness is condescending |
sorry for my spelling its always late after school when i do these so thanks for the help
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