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Jul 2013
Writing is my only escape, craving for more and more, to get over my endless sore, to write about things I adore, like sitting next the shore watching the blue waves come and go, I've printed my hands on the scattered sand to feel the bareable heat, and watch the people while their having a seat, to wittness such a beautiful scene gave me hope, the truth that must be spread and read that we write for our passionate souls, some things ruled our lives rolled our dice, chains that bordered us must be broken, our wide, pretty not fake smiles should be drawn in our pale faces, chased by the flashbacks of the past, today we are here to wittness the wonders of the wonderful inventions to feel that we are blessed with most wanted life.
Mockingbird
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Mockingbird  Poetry land
(Poetry land)   
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