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a
ink in the sink
waiting for me to think
of when the glasses went
"clink"
when i showed you the book
that made me look
at the walls of my room
thinking of you
you asked to borrow
i said no
you got mellow
and threw the pillow
i lean against the wall
you stride into the hall
not looking at all
but thinking of me and the
wall
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This piece was inspired by a pen that my dad gave me on a random Friday, no special occasion, no reason at all, he just handed me a fountain pen that I've secretly wanted for ages. I don't know how he knew, or why he did it, but it meant something I'll never forget. It may seem like a pen to you, but to me, it was the start of a lifelong journey of forgiveness.