Recycled.A Poem by andrew mitchell
When the peels of love
were discarded, nothing came about from the composting, not enriched at all. The core was rotten. © 2016 andrew mitchell |
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1 Review Added on December 8, 2016 Last Updated on December 8, 2016 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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