Deon Eben Van Der Merwe Poetry: The Hereditary

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Friday, June 20, 2008

The Hereditary

I crawl then I fall, I lie then I die In this place I cannot emerge my face I relate to my cigarette as the light goes on green At times I’m high on red of wine the glimmer glass takes me to the barrel of grapes I'm confident Now I portray myself as fame eager to turn a new love over and I only kind... Sign in to see full entry.

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