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by Maple Tree Feb 14, 2022
Sadness, depression /
I’ve’ forgotten how stones get tossed
After thrashing my mind around secluded ponds, just to gaze
Into the unknown of your eyes.
It’s a lifestyle that growing accustomed to becomes barbaric,
And yet my daily rituals are repeated like a stumble upon a record
It’s just dust “I tell myself” in a whisper, for onlookers dare to judge
A person talking alone.
As if nightmares
The pure control you have over me
I’ve missed coming here to dabble with words
Because murdering your unspeakable truths upon paper,
Is better than dying alone
For people just to wonder
by BOB GALLO
Your words are so effortless. Your mind is so swift and skilled poetically, that even a "twister" :) :) like me has to stop and get fresh air chasing the twirls of inclinations in your poems. Also you make sadness beautiful.