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Blake
Poems
Jan 2021
Lost
My hand is shaking,
The wind was yelling out your name.
Is this the sign of bowing down before it's too late?
I'm scared for the battle that may follow.
I found a broken bottle and saw myself holding the white flag.
Written by
Blake
24/FTM
(24/FTM)
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,
I'm not Anne
,
Shattered Thoughts
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