It's warm and it's thick,
It's running down my wrists and neck.
I can stand no longer,
And stare at the letter.
I put it down and begin to cry,
I'm not worried, but don't know why.
I sit and stare through my tears,
I count how many, twenty-one beers.
The empty cans sit uncaring,
Next to my soiled blade.
It's getting dark now,
So I put my pen down.
I hate to say good-bye,
So I say so long and close my eyes.
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