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Mar 2014
I heard  all I can stand.
Deep thorns keep poking my skin.
Whispers still remind.
Perhaps they have nothing better to do.
Use the that energy for waste dear ones.
Turn my head and let you breath  air.
All I can do just be still and gaze at the moon.
Let it go and let it  lay underneath your shoes.
Dianne Guerrero
Written by
Dianne Guerrero  San Diego Ca
(San Diego Ca)   
305
 
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