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Jan 2014
A desperate comfort
Shines on its silver blade
As it glides like a sailboat
Across ocean waves.

A soothing wake
Creates a canal
From the then and there
To the here and now.

A wound too deep
To dismiss the pain.
Flesh too weak
To ignore disdain.

Darkness slowly overcomes
As I lay, freed at last,
In a red pool of fleeting misery
On the cold, washroom floor.
Anthony M De Santi
Written by
Anthony M De Santi  Canada
(Canada)   
811
 
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