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I know you'll never say it:
those dreaded words, "Me too...
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My head falls back-
through a cloud...
-
Winter
cold and frosty mornings...
-
..her heart in the
shape of rose...
-
Gentle dove with crystal breath
with plumes that touch my heart...
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Tonight, I am going to filter out all those
thoughts which are whispering into my ear...
-
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Somehow we survive
bombshells coming at us...
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Life without you is Christmas
with no mistletoe’s adrenalin...
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I can't form words,
I can't form thoughts...
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Wasted
Are the lives of the innocent through...
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It is apparent,
gauging from my presence in this pitch black room...
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<( To You Dear Poets )>
All of this poetic beauty once shared...