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Mar 2012
I pedaled slowly; a rusty chain circled its track
Quiet winds kissed my cheeks and my fingertips
Before me, a church is home to singing angels
It neighbors a house of cracking Rulers and warnings of damnation
Inside the house are black boards caked in white dust
The dust resides slyly, a subtle reminder of who I was
And from my lips a remedy falls in the form of a sigh
Knowing that the Demons inside are nothing but forgotten ghosts
Danny C
Written by
Danny C  31/M/Annoyed in Illinois
(31/M/Annoyed in Illinois)   
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