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Oct 2016
the words floated towards her ears;
and though they were a whisper,
though not so much to her;
onward they flew,
like an arrow in search of an apple;
as i watched its unbending advance,
intent upon its true aim,
i prayed an eagle would sense its prey
and by its tyrannical claws,
sharpened for battle,
my insults would be given a stay,
dragged away for just recourse,
like a judge halting a widow’s creditors;
but alas my safe harbor of regret
was not soon enough in its valor,
as the apple i loved,
a beautiful gift of nature,
shattered
bursting loudly,
into the tears that exist only for me;
no they would not spare her,
not my words
not her tears
for once sent,
they could never repent,
and once wept,
they would never forget
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
294
   KathleenAMaloney
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