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May 2016
A ring rests upon a finger where your
love has withered and corroded to dust

Mine flies like butterflies ascending in the wind.

I greave for your emptiness that only
fades like your inked waning words.
Poetic T
Written by
Poetic T  On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)   
421
     Poetic T, --- and Adam Childs
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