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Josephine Wild
Poems
Sep 2012
It is What it Is.
All the same.
All the same it is.
Noticing--
nothing,
nothing at all.
For all the same
it is.
Bleeding inside
nothing at all.
Scrambling
hurting
all the same.
Crying within,
nothing to give
because
all the same
it is.
Written by
Josephine Wild
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