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Ann Beaver
Poems
Feb 2013
Drip
Drip Drop Pop
Open close
Unrip the closet door
Hinge
And cringe at the thought of more
Starving artist, so poor
Drip Drop Flop
Close open
The mess is in a frame
Real
And feel the dream that never came
Paint brush becomes lame
Drip Drop Mop
Up the tears
Fringe
On the end of your jacket that I see in the mirrors
Losing, failing my biggest fears
Drip Drops
Flow down the petals of your face
High School poem
Written by
Ann Beaver
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