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  17h Khoi-San
At the moment when
the last rays
to the faint glimmer of stars
and the time we have had
looks to be setting
on a far away horizon,
a finger of light
slips through long shadows
cast by tree trunks
and sparkles in the mica particles
of blazing red dust;
a trail to follow
a possible promise of a reclaimed day
that creeps into the undergrowth
and vanishes
with the pink sky.
May 2020

For a man who holds more promise than a red dust path.
Khoi-San 19h
Shaken by my own imperfections
I write poetry for likes
what I won't do
to give the most hated
what can only be described
as a solid hug
  19h Khoi-San
Some people are great
Some people are kind and generous
They took care of me
I love some people
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