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Aug 2020
Tips of wheat brush gently across my fingers
I weep
But there are no tears that stream
Or muffled sobs
Only me in a field of wheat
A place among the stars
Why here?
In this field of golden stalks and grey sky
I'm answered by the breeze
Caressing my face with gentle embrace
Sight fades for feeling's sake
The illusion of life slips away
I am left with these golden stalks and breeze
Here I am free
Among the wheat with my lonely tree
I rest peacefully
Written by
Jena T  30/F/Germany
(30/F/Germany)   
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