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Sep 2015
Words find their way.
Hearts speak through fingers.
Reading eyes are mirrored in
Ink systematically spilled in
The shape of sounds
And minds.

A pen resting on the table is a
Flatline.
A blank piece of paper merely
Dead, compressed wood.
Don't deny us your genius.
There is no try in poetry.
SG Holter
Written by
SG Holter  Fenstad, Norway.
(Fenstad, Norway.)   
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