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You told me, yesterday.

That today would be your, last day.

Your Promises fall short,

They just couldn’t be true.

Every morning is the morning,

You can’t, wipe  my tears away.

The salt is burning,

But the pain will fade, away.
Why are these salty tears,

Making me bleed?

There burning my cuts,

I ‘can’t seem to wipe them, away.
Every morning is the morning,

You can’t, wipe my tears away.
The salt is burning,

But the pain will fade away.

I know by your snores,

That you’ve been drinking again.
Your promises fall short,

They just couldn’t be true.

You told me yesterday,

Today would be your last day,
With your whiskey track record,

Please don’t,
Ask me, to take you back.

Content © 2012 Samantha Plante

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