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Dec 2015
Ice grips my heart.
I tell myself this every morning.
Blizzards deafen my mind,
I drive with the windows down at fifteen below.
Freezing me to solid stone,
Unreachable by human hands.
Beautiful on surface clear,
Deathly to those that dare come near.
David Watt
Written by
David Watt  milton keynes
(milton keynes)   
   m i a
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