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When day came,
The woman went.
She'd looked up the word "loser"
In the dictionary
Lo and behold
His photo adorned the page
The rich coffee aroma wafted up
From the leaves of the book
She smelled it
Time to pack it in
Time to pack up
Time to go
Time was once a river of love
Wended its way through anything
No matter the miles
Or the women that came between
Or the babies she mourned,
Who never drew breath
Not that he cared.
She gazed for a while
At the dictionary
At the picture
She closed her eyes and inhaled;
This time that coffee smelled strong
She breathed out
Time to pack it in
Time to pack up
Time to go
Night passed, and day came.
The woman went.
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