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Kate Copeland
Poems
Feb 2020
Sit out
My own little
private hell
In a way it moves me
strangely to be
so insecure so grey
so hollow in a way
black tide's back
fire slowly fades
along all I wrong
my storm my sanity
the art's to abide
and enjoy the ride
to hell and back
and back again
to feel real again
Would you stay and
sit with me please?
Written by
Kate Copeland
50/F/London
(50/F/London)
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