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Oct 2015
Write with no hands,
Taste with no tongue,
Speak with no voice,
Feel with no nerves,
Sense with no senses,
How can I?
I questioned...
Faith.
My life is in the hands of the poet,
Mold my imagery,
You hold the power of creativity,
Make me read,
Taste,
Hear,
Feel,
Sense,
You.
A black hole could be your refuge,
I promise to follow you.
Poetic Artiste
Written by
Poetic Artiste  32/F/Boston
(32/F/Boston)   
331
 
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