w . cox

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Best Poem of w . cox


her blue eyes, glossy red, but blue inside,
blue is the color of the tears not shed,
kept inside the center of her world,
the devil does not rest here, instead its a tear filled planet,
cold as winder, fragile as glass, as the avalanche falls, it crushes me,
i love her when she smiles, but i cant stand to see her cry

Read the full of Avalanche

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