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Nov 2019
You pray for the
voice not to break,
for composure
even though the
pristine walls are
and you see
through facades
into broken hearts,
see sunny days fading
away into war,
into a torn city,
a storyΒ Β 
you don’t
see but drift
towards like a
current meeting  
a person you never
knew but are close
to through blood,
skin, through the
wish to start again.
Written by
katie  Liverpool
     Fawn and Walter W Hoelbling
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