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Are we more than emotions and clay?
Flesh and bones...
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There are pieces of me
on the couch...
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...and if you ask about my well-being,
I am floating over clouds...
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...but I was never a dreamer
until you puffed into me...
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long rain cascades
morphs into a lyrical chant...
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A sky full of clouds
imprisoned her soul...
-
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There's a thin line between right and wrong
An open space of opportunity...
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my brain
leaks...
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I find you in storms I fight to weather
in traps of poetry I uncover...
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(If this poem site could literily talk)
I've been meaning to speak to y'all...
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Hands that knocked at your gate
were not the same hands after...
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Thus, whispered an hourglass in my ears:
No rock would ever survive the onslaught of time...