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Tom Lefort
Poems
Nov 2020
Wither
I am losing my grip, final touch of fingertips,
One last gasp, a grasp of hands
That spilt those years like grains of sand.
I am fading too fast, withers now a reckless past,
In desperate cries, my crimes of old
That beat within the heart that stole my soul.
TS Lefort, November 2020
#love
#past
#age
#years
#sadness
#reflection
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Tom Lefort
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