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May 2012
teeter me kinder
with empty-come-locks,
the gaggle, the feeder, the crow


still lost in the yesters
with time spiral-shells, you
don't seek the knowledge to know



the lightest of greenings
still kissing your face,
it's only a stage that you show


try holding a seedling,
the truth sprouting evers,
try finding yourself til you grow
Keith Ren
Written by
Keith Ren
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