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Nov 3
but it’s like this, despite the stress you still stand
running in the moorland, braiding your hair
stepping into the rushing waters, home to the fish
they play hide and seek, dodging the steps
the tall grass tickles the knees, and you fall
‘get up, it’s only a scratch!’
youth, pure youth

i listen to my heart beating
my fragile hands
carrying the most beautiful flowers
and souls
watching the birds sing in the hidden trees of the forest
i look around, tripping on a rock
maybe i should learn to live with it
second youth
its an old poem of mine
ivan
Written by
ivan  14/M/Brazil
(14/M/Brazil)   
294
 
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