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Nov 2014
I saw a poem fly right by
     begging to be read

It's word were torn and tattered
             it's pages slightly shred

It told me it was empty
        No poet to be seen

It'd weep in deafening silence
    It's cover, no longer clean

All I could say to the poem
  With words that only meant few

Was that before I met it
  
I was lonely too.
mochiu
Written by
mochiu
273
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