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Jul 2011
tonight I feel not quite like me
theres no free flow of poetry
I slide down trains of serrated thought
sensing in pictures lying all out of sort
theres flickers of death of planes of song
of boxes of memories that all went wrong
big eyes brim-full of disguised tears
big smiles down-turned by mortal fears
I wonder about whats left to see
theres just no knowing...
its not like me
Sharleen Boaden
Written by
Sharleen Boaden
700
   --- and Liz Anne
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