Some people were put in this world to tell stories And others, to listen.
We found the eye of the storm a little late and without warning I watched the shadow of your stories swing on my dashboard. I can't get high enough without you. No sense counting the tears that are frozen on your face No sense counting lost minutes and hours when it's a second too late I can't keep filling these voids with ashes and cigarette smoke I can't keep watching through frozen windows for any sign of hope.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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