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niamh
Poems
May 2015
Recognition
She stands on
Mountain tops
And screams until her lungs
Beg for mercy.
But her shouts
Are torn to pieces
By careless winds.
And what reaches their ears
Is but a whisper.
She begs, as if from behind
A plate of glass,
But they see a smile
And hear a laugh
For that is what they want.
Will no-one see
Beyond this facade?
Written by
niamh
Ireland
(Ireland)
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Christi Michaels MoonFlower
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