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Six Years
by
Richard Buckner
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I went down to meet my maker And the water tastes salty What's on my lips. The letter you sent me I found a good friend but let her go too easily And what's on my mind. The last time you kissed me It was a foam splint-shackle And twenty hours on a train Six years and I wonder If you were worth the pain I'm wasting away wondering If I'll always love you only And what's holding my heart Is the way you used to hold me
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