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meadowbrook
Poems
Sep 2020
the stage
in my eyes, an ever morning fog
since I were a child
I stopped breathing then
hitch in my throat when I must inhale
I hate to
and I see myself living
so far removed
arms, legs, mouth
going through the motions
reading myself the actions
rehearsing this play
all the worldβs a stage
Written by
meadowbrook
27/F/Sydney
(27/F/Sydney)
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