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Barton D Smock
Poems
Apr 2016
the exact
father became the man his possession foreshadowed. mom had a purse full of spoons. brother bathed any form quiet enough to make the kitchen sink. I began to believe. I began to hear in the rock
the thorn
it spoke for. over the nest of a bird,
the nothing to eat.
Written by
Barton D Smock
48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)
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