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Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Trust he

The silence pierces through me
Harder than the sharpest device
I know it's hard to glee

It happens what's meant to be
All what's causing your demise
I can very well see

Hold your own hand and be
The sun, not the vice
For it'll help you flee

2 comments:

  1. You should publish your poems somewhere. They are amazing.

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    Replies
    1. Help me get a lead on that, maybe?
      And, thanks so much.

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