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Maybe where we were meant to bewas in the front seat of that Ford Mustangwith the motor fixed and the windwhistling in our faces. We’re laughingand carefree, headed down the highwayto find memories of his father,trying to outrun the sunset.
Theodore McDowell
Mustapha H
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This stanza gave me goosebumps!
I'm passionate about poetry, nature, travel, and exploring life through reading, writing, and communicating.
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