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Dec 2014
wish i wrote dark, about deep insecurities,

a struggling childhood, i wish i wrote

like others with words of wonderfull

syllables,  bells ringing,

you know.



wish i wrote long tomes, to bore myself

rigid. to tap the hours away till bedtime,

early.



wonder if i shall write serious,

tell thee all  hard stories that

don't exist. i wonder if i shall stop,

when no one reads.



this is a time to wonder at the

dark hours leaving, waters receding,

black trees slowly turning. wintergreen.



sbm.
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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