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Aug 2017
We're all missing something;
Some of us more than others-
Visible gashes in our physical being.
Some, invisible.
Valleys where love once lived.
Potholes in our memories from pain
that swept the roadways of our minds.
Rotting emotions, sitting in a corner
festering from lack of use...
a tongue out of order where whispers
of sweet nothings grew.
Lindsay Thomas
Written by
Lindsay Thomas  Kentucky
(Kentucky)   
  351
   PoetryJournal
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