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Nov 2011
I want to write for hours
but I know not of what.
Not of nightingales and blooming flowers,
but this state I'm in, this rut.

Who could leave these scars upon me thus?
scrapes, bruises, scratches and pus...
Not you, not them, nor them all
I am the reason for my own fall.
Mana
Written by
Mana  F
(F)   
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