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Xienab
Poems
Jul 2014
5/365
He was midas
And she was just tin.
He ran his finger tips along her sharp edges.
He embraced her rugged structure.
He filled her hollowness with glitter, turned her into gold.
She only became petty gold.
Like a cheap wedding band.
A symbol of love, but never to be loved.
-Z.H.
Written by
Xienab
Canada
(Canada)
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Caroline Grace
,
Sameer Denzi
and
Sagar Sachdeva
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