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Aug 2013
Heavy grey sky
Irrepressibly looming,
Descending, a sheen.
Cleansing the houses,
The streets.
And I,
Another wan figure
An aspiring dove,
So crushed,
Now only a poor pigeon.
Another watcher
With no part to play,
But to release my breath,
Pearlescent clouds
Ascending to the grey.
Robyn Lewis
Written by
Robyn Lewis  Rome
(Rome)   
858
 
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