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Apr 2021
The cold spits in my face From the other side. Frozen in frost, It's stairs  Through The gate. Ice cracking under my feet. I listen To how The breeze Whispers through the cold, With it's warmth by its side Never letting go of What's whrite..
Written by
Joe Quaale  49/M/Wash.
(49/M/Wash.)   
88
   --- and Eshwara Prasad
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