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Sitting in this
Waiting for a call.
I'm in this lonely world,
Having no fun at all.
Mother calls me every night to talk,
To get to her house,
I have to walk.
I light my smoke and put in down,
My whole world is in this little town.
My friends all get drunk and stoned,
While I sit at home all alone.
This poem must come to an end,
So this is goodbye my friend.
Copyright © November
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