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Outlived
Outlived
I sat by an angel with her feet trapped in
ice looking into my eyes she asked what
was my vice I gave here an answer
that in part was the truth
I love to write stories and poems
May I read what you’ve written she
says as the ice starts to melt in my
utter confusion I said what I felt
the bubble it got burst champagne then
spilled on to my paper as the
truth was distilled