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Aug 2015
Within the
Wilted leaves
Of the
Forgotten garden,
Where the
Weeds strangle
And the air
Is still,
Lies the
Faintest scent
Of sweetness,
The dying
Breath of
Honeysuckle,
The whispering
Promise of
A better
Tomorrow.
niamh
Written by
niamh  Ireland
(Ireland)   
505
     ---, brandon nagley, NV, ---, --- and 18 others
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