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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1965781
A Swannet.
Winner of 1st place in "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window., Swannet round.


She said, “Hello” at a Sherrie’s show
when we were only eight or ten.
And I remember the day when
a dance’s moves we didn’t know.

There were many fights; she was always right,
but best friends we would always be.
Our friendship of two was sometimes three;
backbiting there was; I had no foresight.

Maturity for her came much too soon,
and with it, a taste for the bottle.
Her life was a whirlwind, she went full-throttle,
and I, sucked into her typhoon.

After the storm, to myself I will show
the past is behind, that I must know.
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