This is not a murder

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There was a wine

on the table,

There were people

on the bench.

There was a smile

on their faces,

There was a love

in the air.

There was a past

in her heart,

There was a future,

in his mind.

There were buses

in the streets,

There was her

with him again.

There was a bed,

in old attic.

There were them,

in the sheets.

There was a morning,

on the window.

There was a blood,

on his hands.


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