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Eliot
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This Poem
Poems
May 2020
The Wall
Bloodied fists,
Chipped Nails,
Torn skin,
And yet nothing.
The wall,
It stands in silence,
A mental masonry masterpiece,
My own suffering by design.
I collapse to the ground,
And look at the sky,
To watch the dust settle,
And then I realize,
The wall is crumbling,
Slowly…
#emotions
#thoughts
#feelings
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