Moustache

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Each one said goodbye

Not at the end of the nite

But as each one had done

What life does to people

How age paves the road

But the potholes

Bends an axle

Each one says goodbye

Because of happenstance

And situation

Your face becomes

Red from the slap

How you wished it

Was different

But different

Is just wishful thinking

Oil and water never

Mix even when shaken

It all becomes dressing

For a night that

Came to an end

 

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3 thoughts on “Moustache

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