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A man is missingin every photo of myyouth. He is gone,a Sasquatch or a
yeti,only outlines and
blurredextremities.
Crafting scissors
sharpas scalpe..
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There is no sickle’s
compass, no place for
you to hide, there
is simply the truth now:
Death is not what I
fear, I must admit,
for wha..
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Black coat faded
from service
betrays its old
master (now quiet, cold and dead)
Folded flags
mean nothing to
those they're
given
to, even ..
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My great grandmother's tears made the
ocean
when she crossed the sea:
salt for every face left behind
for every brother, three.
I never cry m..
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A Stage Play by Thyme13
A historically based play on the life and times of Ida B. Wells in a One-Act format. If this is being considered for publication, I have a copy with ..
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