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Sep 2018
I think it's a strange world we live in dear
Such different places to visit
More adventures to conquer fear
Opportunities that do not limit

So many different choices
So little prodigious wonder
As well as so many different voices
That followed me as I went under

I think of life as different houses
I've built mine of wood
instead of stone with couches
so me moving would be understood

My element is not a home
For it's dark, and I'm not alone
My third sonnet, am I doing better or worse. Huge question, are my poems always depressing? Apologies if it is, I sort of am, but I hope this sonnet is something good for someone else
Written by
Armand-DeamoJC  21/M/South Aftica
(21/M/South Aftica)   
771
   White Widow, Me, Fawn and ---
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