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My Last Sip
Only until I take my last sip,
A white guitar she brought,
On a cramped cafe stage, “Deep breaths,” her only thought.
As he passes by, he begins losing his grip.
The beautiful sounds fill his ears, taking his mind on a trip.
The thumping in his chest quickens, slowing it cannot,
The melody ceases, as the kettle becomes hot.
He learns her name, wanting to take a dip.
Her days turn into his eyes, a tumultuous blue sea,
The cream mixes in with the black,
The warm sweet smell of her favorite tea.
A young girl’s loss of innocence, leaves her on a broken track.
A bitter taste begins to fill her mouth, as he begins to flee.
The tears rolling down her face, as the mug becomes as empty as she.
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