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Poetry by Gabriel Yeung

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Lucky

We mad lucky

   Like a jackpot or something

Or a green winter and sprinkling diamonds

Innocent Radiance depressed cuz His friends use him

But, once again I look upon the cross where you died

It's nasty I shouldn't be here

Tear my Sunday clothes

Why sing? I can't

Even pray. Am I

Loveless? Whatever,

He's got me. 

 

A poem by Gabriel Yeung