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The sin of ink

Posted on by Anonymous17

Omayra Sanchez - Frank Fournier A child’s heart may seem to flutter With the same morbid delicacy of a bird’s wings In a sea of petrol With words of rage and love he may stutter Tripping on objects that are to us but little things But a child knows not...

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Uncertainty

Posted on by Anonymous17

Paths we may have drawn Like a Yellow Brick Road But it is nothing but stone A canvas for the orange light of dawn

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