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Feb 2016
There's a cross above, beside, below my bed
The splinters get stuck in my head
If I could get them out and in a row
I'd build a boat with them and catch the flow
Make sails from the pages that I've read
Then wings for when the world ends
But the words are wrapped around the wood
Though I would free them, if I could
Written by
Silverthorn  Earth
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