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If I was a tree. Which stood tall. A monument to life. Strong, gentle, and kind. Wind would gently kiss my leaves. I would be a prison. A desolate grove of death. Roots drunk with toxicity. Trunk twisted, etched in profanity. Just barren branches of thorns.
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Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
Which Way the Wind Blows
If I was a tree. Which stood tall. A monument to life. Strong, gentle, and kind. Wind would gently kiss my leaves. I would be a prison. A desolate grove of death. Roots drunk with toxicity. Trunk twisted, etched in profanity. Just barren branches of thorns.
devin-ortiz
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Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
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