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Blue
Drinking myself to sleep
I pull down the shades
Have a glass of scotch.

I forget about the women
Yesterday's lack of sun
And look foward to the music I will hear tomorrow

Take pills for the pain
But still bend over into my fetal position
To heal my internal bleeding

I fall dead asleep





 1998 David Greg Harth
98.09.18.01:46:00@NJ