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November 18, 2015

As I write what I feel

full of memories past

still relevant and so real

I know not all things do last…


when reality is over-taken by the surreal

hurt inside is all that I can feel

no reason, no rhyme

for the silence of time

no denial, no reply

all I can ask is…why?


for when a friendship blooms

intense decisions may loom

and time again is let be…

but curt indignation

of what? am I missing?

then pain flows freely throughout me…


and that pain doth grow

when it’s love that should flow…




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