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short poem
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I'm burying myself in foreign tongues,in pages set before my times.I can't live in todays and tomorrows;yesterdays I exist to borrow.A living exhibiti..
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I dream a dream most often dreamt,in which I'm short a leg or hand.In which my sorrows cannot stand,in which my head resembles an old man.Wrinkled and..
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In the society of hunters and hunted,
when is prey not a prey?
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He spoke to me,
when the sun shone bright.
Yet I heard nothing, not a sound.
He spoke again,
in the veil of the moonlit sky.
Breathlessly, voic..
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It was a bright midsummer morning spell
I watched my friend as they held my hand
They were beauty, they were grace
The brazen eyes, the raven hai..
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Beauty broken from young age
She held his heart above her cage
She fed him lies of importance
So she could let go in accordance
Knowing she wo..
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short poem
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A poem
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Short poem about trust and love
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