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Feb 2017
I’m broken.
No holding on any more.
Grasps are for the weak that refuse to believe,
that letting go is sure.

I’m broken.
You are broken too.
You read these words for solace,
still finding nothing new.

I’m broken.
My soul shall not be found.
My broken body straightened,
and shoveled in the ground.

I’m broken.
Nothing here remains.
Those who swore they could not go on,
continue day to day.
No one else has fallen.

I’m broken.
and it’s as though I never was at all.
I never was at all.
C F Tinney
Written by
C F Tinney  Midwest
(Midwest)   
226
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