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Monday, December 21, 2009

Sunday's So Cold

By Tres Crow

Go home
You’re not wanted here
I said hold on
I think I’m in love here
Or maybe it’s just something I feel

Where did I get the notion
Sunday’s can be so cold?

Who told?
I thought I’d hid it well
I was young but never innocent
Like that note
I gave you on the last day of school

Just like the ghost books
I’d read
You disappeared without a trace

All my thoughts
Always come back to you
You hold on
Like the last fallen leaf
And evenings spent
Listening
Were all in your name

And if I could
Have spoken to you
And told you what I should

Dear Rachel, I’d always thought such a pretty name

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