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Nov 2022
you picked the scabs off my skin
and left me there standing
like a maple tree midst autumn
and God has never been more angry
'cause these winds are blowing a fear
you and I both caress
lift me up in the air
drop my body on the damp forest floor
let me decompose among the leaves
can you hear the winter whisper already?
it's a mess
Written by
kristian
89
   guy scutellaro
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