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Zoe Mae
Poems
Nov 2021
Whispering from a well
I'm just scribbling in the wind
Babbling to dead trees
I wonder why I even begin
painting portraits no one sees
I'm just spitting into a void
Barely whispering from a well
I wonder if anyone hears my voice
It's becoming hard to tell
#misunderstood
Written by
Zoe Mae
40/F/Massachusetts
(40/F/Massachusetts)
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