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May 2019
Till then is to let go.
    Breathing from the icelake
         I spend my exile
From times to time
    Breathing from the ice lair
Inhaling memories.
Memories of flashes
Here and there
   Your hand here, now
  No where
   Memories, bruises,
A cut here
A cut there
Leaves me wandering
From ray to ray
Drowned in  seaful memory
Sad memories
arthur samuel papa
Written by
arthur samuel papa  22/M/Ghana
(22/M/Ghana)   
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