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They escape from my mind as I reach for my pen. As though they want to remain hidden from this world of destruction. Nothing but an empty canvas remains in my head. Before it was different, that canvas I now see. Filled with such colours, vibrant like the sea. But now it is bare... There's no story to tell, not even a whisper. Just in my mind....
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
Poem About Writing A Poem
They escape from my mind as I reach for my pen. As though they want to remain hidden from this world of destruction. Nothing but an empty canvas remains in my head. Before it was different, that canvas I now see. Filled with such colours, vibrant like the sea. But now it is bare... There's no story to tell, not even a whisper. Just in my mind....
grace-graham
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
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