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Aug 2021
A broken swing on the old oak tree
A scrap of blue fabric holding it together
Messy braids on a head
Wrapped in thin blankets
The wind howls
Moans at the broken glass
The tears in her eyes
The scars, they were here to stay
I wish we could too

The fabric frays
The swing finally falls
The wind keeps howling
and howling
Terra Levez
Written by
Terra Levez  16/F/Where the wild things are
(16/F/Where the wild things are)   
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