MendingA Poem by DreaSuturing the wounds of the pastI will not be that broken doll on the floor. eyes dull clothes torn I shall not be neglected as others have. Ever so gently. Blown away in the wind. eyes dull clothes torn I will pick her up and hold her close. TELL HER Tell her~ Broken soul. No No more. © 2008 DreaFeatured Review
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Added on February 7, 2008Last Updated on October 16, 2008 AuthorDrea6,500 feet up and no net, COAboutLong Hiatus...work has consumed much of my free time; not to mention my brain capacity. Written in child's scrawled hand on delicate skin; Marker tattoo faded to freckled trails whispering. She's.. more..Writing
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