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Meka Boyle
Poems
Feb 2012
Of rocks and maybe other things.
Once I threw a rock
Into a river,
So I could watch it
Fall.
Then I left,
But the rock stayed,
And made me feel
So small.
So now I never
Go near water,
For fear of getting
Wet.
And as for the rock,
It lays there,
Drowning.
And still, I can't
Forget.
Written by
Meka Boyle
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