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Apr 2019
Breadth of the summer's call,
Whisper your trying tales.

May yet I sit and wail,
At this season's juxtaposed quall.

Even though, be it over,
It's leeching tendrils reach as far,
As the wind hung sail,
To only fly me closer,
To this young mind's veil.
Written by
Robert van Lingen  30/M/Anywhere But Here
(30/M/Anywhere But Here)   
255
   julie and ---
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