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Apr 2013
a raven, alone in an old empty church
living by the silence of the pale moonlit night
soaring into the sky; crying on a silver birch
of seeing other creatures being recognized,
a raven, captive of old echoing vows
seeking for a better place; wings are broken
if only the whole world is listening now,
this raven might whisper about its existence.
~I really need your help. Feedback please, or any suggestions for the betterment of this poem. Thank you. :)

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JK Cabresos
Written by
JK Cabresos  M/PH
(M/PH)   
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