168 hours

168 hours

She then walked along the busy road
The racing cars did not seem to mind
Stared at the dark grey sky and bowed down
How would it feel to lessen the load?
Of the oncoming sadness she might find
There’s no other way to leave this town
If her hand was not clasped in palm
Looked back again, then again, she looked
Recalled her last sight, from up she saw
Her other walked away, ran away
She knew he’d be back and he would stay
But her heart would be to hard to thaw
With sad cold words of which she was hooked
Counted one-six-eight, she looked, he’s gone


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