One last oneA Poem by JstmdsOne human in a row of mannequins One flying in a flock with broken wings one anthem to purity withstanding the scrutiny the first draught from the well the one book in my cell one clearance to be no appearance to keep no pressure no fight no anger no fright simple yet moving into the blooming rinsing and soothing warm and still cooling embracing my patience set but still rooting modestly salient the last one that's not looting.
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Added on January 27, 2017Last Updated on March 12, 2018 |