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Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Sixteen Candles

With each blow of the flame, I wish for the better.
But it seems that no matter how many candles flicker away,
No matter how much pocket change I spend in fountains,
Countless days of 11:11 and  whispering into dandelions,

I always find a way to screw it up.
Wishes are wasted and dreams are destroyed with each try.

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