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Torak
Poems
May 2014
Wind
I can not help but cringe from your touch,
But who am I to blame?
For after stomping on my assertion,
And spitting on my self esteem,
You left.
Like a whisper in the wind,
And my heart breaks my ribs
With every gentle breeze,
Expecting your return.
Written by
Torak
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Grace Pickard
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