Life. Stale bread pisons my soul, The voices yell, fighting with each other with me in the middle. I see what I have learned and yet still it does not make sense, I can not find the new story awaiting my arrival. The voices are now too loud as they have allways been, And yet only now am I not blind... Sign in to see full entry.
Shall I compare the to a Winters night.:
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A love poem comparing someone to various objects.
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