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Jul 17
Dogs can even smell the sadness in me
It leaks from my soul
It jumps out from my skin
Yet one step higher is where we always belong, don’t we?
One step higher is the gleaming golden trophy
And we’d craft our chances
We’d grow our wings
To leave them behind…
A poem for a painting
Tita Halaman
Written by
Tita Halaman  26/F/Manila, PH
(26/F/Manila, PH)   
81
   MS Anjaan
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