no titleA Poem by Beth SullivanWhen everything falls into place, Everything slows down you hold your stomach tighter You feel your skin smooth And fall to the floor Stop to think, take a lesson Give yourself a chance to know who you are Everything behind you is now destroyed You did this yourself, mess maker Now go cry under your tree © 2011 Beth SullivanReviews
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Added on January 25, 2011Last Updated on January 25, 2011 Author
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