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Sep 2014
Asylums handle the damaged suicide
Hospitals heal faulty nods
And lovers decline to live or die.
But where do I belong?
When anger shakes my moods foundation,
These tender thoughts of being secluded
In a soul that isn't white, nor black,
But gray.
I said "Eternal,"
for this notion exceeds forever.
Brie Sarita
Written by
Brie Sarita
540
   Rose Claire
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