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Jul 2023
Your yesteryears — a stranger,
a juvenile crime, a tear hoarder
Rotting your bright-colored soul,
withering your wild
Sorrow was a disease, you’re too good to hide
Eyeballs ****** the pain you have as a child
Hurt, an illness, you couldn’t fight
‘Til outbursts
A poem of a painting
Tita Halaman
Written by
Tita Halaman  26/F/Manila, PH
(26/F/Manila, PH)   
161
   MS Anjaan
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