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Jun 2011
A poetic tear falls slowly in the morning
It comes and goes absolute,
bringing with it, no warning
A subtle thought surpassed by any dispute

However it may come to be
It seems to always take over,
to set me and my body free

From the flowing rivers and bubbling streams
and to the tallest of all the mighty oak trees

Normally comes from a poem
Or a thought that brings me grief
It could be a lovely painting
that brings me to a state bequeathed

My favorite is a song,
that harmony does me in
The melody dances over me
and crawls underneath my skin
Written by
J Colin
557
 
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