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Feb 2012
Did they hollow soft to your voice

Ten feet tall and monsters so quick to grace

An even eye line of diamonds true to your name

Sore red hands

Keeping what cost of their children to pay

Steal and stole

Working on their dear woman’s page

A ghost what she wrote to be

A bad heart you never want to see

She couldn’t put that away keeping the walls bowed

Breathing in and out

Sometimes heavily

But mostly turning blue

Most wonderful iris

Flowers

Eyes

None of that ****

And nobody takes that name

Drowning a broken glass

With words to cut

I don’t step on bugs much either

Their mothers would worry

I would give it up ten times to what you owe the old crow

The bottom wealth hands wont let you take one step further.
Patrick Raven
Written by
Patrick Raven
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