Wednesday, May 11, 2016

8 lines.

One window open. One window closed.
Is it hot or cold? There's sunshine in the snow.
Tears of joy, smile through pain.
Fall from the vine then grow again.
Love to be hated, hate to be loved.
No soothing sounds, life's poorly dubbed.
No happy medium, no perfect drug,
Taste the bristles, the rope is too snug.

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