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Beaux
Poems
Nov 2017
This Thought
How often is too often?
That that thought creep into view
Peeking from behind shadowed corners
Calling for company
Company it shall never receive
I see you and have always seen you
The thought is my senses
My senses are this thought
How often will you come to bother me?
How often must you hear me scream?
Leave me to my self alone
Soon enough this thought will become home
Written by
Beaux
TX
(TX)
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