Young

When i grow up

I want to die young 

Like the sarcastic circus

Tumbling down

Like the charcoal absence

Stamped around

I want to flow in between the cracks

And come out alive

I  want to sing till my voice runs out

When i grow up 

I want to die young

Live in the skies

And be buried beneath the ground

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Author:

Contact me at : thinkpoetic@hotmail.com

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