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So precious in her young life, her hands tremble over his skin, In return sniping that “irreplaceable” flower, that she let be killed with pleasure. I sat listening to the tales of her sticky mind, pollinated with hopeful eyes and a hopeful heart. Her mind coming down from the clouds of prescriptions, I couldn’t help but be hopeful too. Hopeful, the same will happen sometime soon to me.

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I'm Happiest When The Car Stereo Is Playing  
I'm Happiest When The Car Stereo Is Playing  
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