Myself Again — a poem

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And, finally
When Autumn sheepishly kissed
The leaf edges
It has so brutally torn
From Spring,
Fearful of the wrath
Of an envious Winter.

As murder and renewal
Played out its annual battle
Around my crunching boots,

I found myself, again.

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Your Lost Language
Your Lost Language

Written by Your Lost Language

“Being loved the way I love, would begin perhaps, a little quietly.” Poems by Sarah.

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