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Oct 2013
My words stay hidden, eyes black like coal.  Buried beneath stratum of conformity.  Fearing to come out lest they be judged.  They weigh me down with great enormity.

Teeth are gnashing, claws are scratching.  Leaving behind the scars of unrealized potential.   They find an alternate path through the fingertips.  Reaching the illuminated surface is vitally essential

The unfiltered light brings an ******* bliss.  The self imposed shackles begin to break.  My unconstrained words have found a home.  The flow of creativity begins to ease my ache.
Written by
Greg Obrecht
1.3k
 
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