We dance our words unsure of the timbers we tread on.
We joust our whims skating the ice so thin.
The veneer of everyday tasks is our song.
The dying of my soul you no longer want to win,
Is my sin ….
D Dec 2016
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The State Of Mind
What goes down must come up
You write beautiful poetry 🙂
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Thank you for the compliment, sometimes I think it’s a bit bleak but it feels good to get the feelings out 🙂
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It’s a wonderful way to release your feelings. Keep it up 🙂
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