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This heart ’twas plucked                                  and tossed A young boy stranded                                  and lost Laid in a fresh dug bed Contemplating the blanket of dirt Sacrificing this mortal coil                                    to the worms She found me there   That coy mistress                                     She whispered Her voice the medicine to cleanse Left as a reminder,                        Stitched Left to stories in thy head A cycle that never ends These gossamer sinews will not hold To a finger that pokes To a hand that grips The flesh, how it rips Left exposed A dark nothingness Lay thy hand on thine chest Do you feel a beat? It doesn’t exist An empty field Left for the crows A seed was planted How could it grow? Water from thine eyes And a hand to hold In that field of brown A little green           Shows
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Pothos
This heart ’twas plucked                                  and tossed A young boy stranded                                  and lost Laid in a fresh dug bed Contemplating the blanket of dirt Sacrificing this mortal coil                                    to the worms She found me there   That coy mistress                                     She whispered Her voice the medicine to cleanse Left as a reminder,                        Stitched Left to stories in thy head A cycle that never ends These gossamer sinews will not hold To a finger that pokes To a hand that grips The flesh, how it rips Left exposed A dark nothingness Lay thy hand on thine chest Do you feel a beat? It doesn’t exist An empty field Left for the crows A seed was planted How could it grow? Water from thine eyes And a hand to hold In that field of brown A little green           Shows
EvilShredder
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
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