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Mar 2014
The sun showering me with her morning kisses,
The wind purring long-forgotten secrets,
The clouds, moving, surveying, observing,
The trees whispering of tales long-foretold,
The nightingales singing sweetly of divine tragedies,
The ocean holding a secret at heart,
The stars witnessing what should be kept behind bars,
The moon mourning, the earth as it once was.
Fatima Ammar
Written by
Fatima Ammar  Hammamet
(Hammamet)   
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