I saw her from the corner of my eyes,
She'd been following me around for sometime now,
Started from the front door,
Until now, closed to the rooftop,
Her name was Abby,
She was sixteen, almost seventeen,
She was young and pretty and smart,
She was into music and reading and art,
All she wanted was to ask for forgiveness,
For once she lied to her mama,
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It's totally make sense, what you're saying and it was kind of my intention. Poem is the simplest way for me to tell the story, as in really telling like we're having conversation kind of way, so I'm glad you feel it too. :)
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It wasn't there
I liked these lines a lot. :)
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