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R R
Poems
Aug 2016
Missing Hands
Sitting on the edge of this cliff.
It's a risk,
But I've always been the gambling type.
My poker face is something no one can mistake.
So when time should end I cannot say.
I've lost the hands of the clock that hold my fate.
I'm letting go.
Nobody is telling me I should stay.
Time is lost,
But never found.
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R R
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Amelia of Ames
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