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Strolling upon the dark pavements, under the melancholy aura of The Moon, I wander what I fear deep within me. Is it the darkness of my soul? or is it, the weight of the fear or the pain of either my close ones or my friends, or the shared stories of many more. Is it only me with racing thoughts? Or I race on someone's mind too? I think not. They laugh, They grin, Where as I drink the red off of my own unhealed scars and some of it spills on my small and hardbound old sepia sheets as poetry...
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
Sepia Sheets
Strolling upon the dark pavements, under the melancholy aura of The Moon, I wander what I fear deep within me. Is it the darkness of my soul? or is it, the weight of the fear or the pain of either my close ones or my friends, or the shared stories of many more. Is it only me with racing thoughts? Or I race on someone's mind too? I think not. They laugh, They grin, Where as I drink the red off of my own unhealed scars and some of it spills on my small and hardbound old sepia sheets as poetry...
Sometimes it hurts to be unique
budhaditya-bose
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
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