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Mar 2016
late running in on your silver steed
ride with grace, no desire to race
harsh fences to admire with dull eyes
entry devils whisk away troublesome friends
hanging red tulips, divine nuisances
growing weary reading subliminal stanzas
yielding, or instead, risking loss,
to appear perfect

-c.j.
smallhands
Written by
smallhands
446
 
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