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May 2020
Deep inside, it feeds my soul
It needs to come out or it takes its toll
It flows like a river after the rain
My mind, the words, are the remains
I have to release what I feel
Keeping me sane, it’s surreal
My goal is simply to share my pain
A way others can avoid, and maintain
Words flow through me, versus appear
My head on my pillow, yet it all is so clear
Destined to a life, unfulfilled
Is a prison, a world, a constant rebuild
Written by
Michael Southerland
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