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Todd Franklin Milstead
Poems
Oct 2016
The Foundry
Longing for an answer,
Knowing it won't come,
I beg for God's mercy.
I scream "Who are you!"
With no reason to cry,
I feel tears on my cheek.
"Today's the day" She says.
Sounds like a melody,
played by an old violin.
Metallic, dense, and rusty.
Like smoke from a foundry.
Written by
Todd Franklin Milstead
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Shadi El Asaad
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