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I write as a lover, before the storm. The wolf pup in winter, seeking the warmth. I write in a theatre made up of dreams. Walking the tightrope, of my tensioned feelings. Believing the gravity serves as my foe, to bring me to earth, abandon my hope, A pessimist calling. I leave it a note. I sing as the sibling, to decorate lives. To wrap up those present, greet who arrive. And each day is christmas, when siblings celebrate, together they dine in the feast they create. I work as the father, to wisen my hands. To cultivate friendship with life and with land. I love it regardless, this life that we have.
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Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 12:14 PM UTC
For the Love of
I write as a lover, before the storm. The wolf pup in winter, seeking the warmth. I write in a theatre made up of dreams. Walking the tightrope, of my tensioned feelings. Believing the gravity serves as my foe, to bring me to earth, abandon my hope, A pessimist calling. I leave it a note. I sing as the sibling, to decorate lives. To wrap up those present, greet who arrive. And each day is christmas, when siblings celebrate, together they dine in the feast they create. I work as the father, to wisen my hands. To cultivate friendship with life and with land. I love it regardless, this life that we have.
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32/M/England
Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 12:14 PM UTC
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