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(20 minute poetry) Crying air flying where the ocean's spray and the summer days last a lifetime and that's measured by some heavenly hand on my lifeline. I breathe in only to drown. There's a sanctuary somewhere crying air's not allowed there. At thirty seven thousand feet I looked for and forward to meet my maker. More than this the absolute when they shoot you down in flames, more than names on a cenotaph or cursory lines on a graph, more in a laugh than a tear we are all and more.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
Ryan's daughter in-law.
(20 minute poetry) Crying air flying where the ocean's spray and the summer days last a lifetime and that's measured by some heavenly hand on my lifeline. I breathe in only to drown. There's a sanctuary somewhere crying air's not allowed there. At thirty seven thousand feet I looked for and forward to meet my maker. More than this the absolute when they shoot you down in flames, more than names on a cenotaph or cursory lines on a graph, more in a laugh than a tear we are all and more.
john-edward-smallshaw
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
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