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Jul 2020
She walked,
Alone, unseeing of the clamour behind her.
Cold, and bereft,
Yearning - for what?
She left. Just disappeared,
Cocooning further as hands
Invisible to her, tried to land
On her heart.
This is the first poem I wrote! I was proud of it and it still holds significance to me.
Written by
anon  22/F/uk
   Imran Islam and Bryn Kennell
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