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Christopher Blanck
Poems
Feb 2012
Intent
Some pace this planet,
feeling so empty,
a heavy hollow.
An unknown creation
for things we do not know.
Unspoken by words
however absurd,
rambling continuous thoughts
resists a black hole's circular reason.
For things we do not know.
This world where our feet rest,
a faithful foundation exists.
How careless have we been acting?
Written by
Christopher Blanck
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