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Dianne Guerrero
Poems
Mar 2014
Out Loud
Tell me.
Why does all must fall.
I Tired.
Deep cuts sores.
Rain of holy water.
I'm reaching to you.
My hands are there.
Touch. hold on. Wait!!!!
I can't go yet.
Not done yet.
I ache of sweet roses still.
I welcome you one day.
Written by
Dianne Guerrero
San Diego Ca
(San Diego Ca)
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