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Nov 14
Branching out a tree
releases leaves, leaves
behind its verdant sleeves
stands e x p o s e d
to brittle breeze
wonders at this, how
a tree is a tree with no leaves
for he believes all trees have leaves
and to be a tree that must be
and sees not that he is tree
when all his leaves leave, beneath  

His crisis shelf
I sit naked on the ground
with strips of me around
and no sense of being self.  

I try to love what I am not.
Written by
Thelefthandedpoet  25/F
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