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Jun 2018
Where does it fly
To shatter from the inside
And look into the blank, only to see it all
The feather that sticks to hamartia
Breath of few that fall on a deaf ear of empathy
Soundless cries of wish for turnout
Drowned in anguish of proper evasion
A lasting moment of red to be brought down by Atlas
No longer brown as red become black
Flightless under the dying evening sky
Cody Reggio-Brown
Written by
Cody Reggio-Brown  27/M
(27/M)   
256
 
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