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#cruelties
talk not to me of the reality that media shoot at me from morn to evening not of catastrophes or cruelties humans inflict upon each other with never-ending venom speak to me of the delight a newborn gives its parents the joy and pride a child feels mastering its first challenging task the sudden sparkle in the eye of refugees when finally they have reached safety the wordless joy when two have found each other and for a time need nobody else speak to me of all the moments in our daily life that make us proud to be human
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Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 3:31 PM UTC
talk not to me
I am not my demons They are made entirely of me. They are the cruelties I've suffered, Presenting themselves like tornados through small towns. Towns that don't seem like much at a passing glance, But who's residents never doubt The beauty and potential it holds If only you stay long enough to notice it. But how can anyone see the beauty in towns That are forever being brought to ruins. At the mercy of something as destructive And unpredictable As a **** tornado?
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
Tornado Valley
I gave away my branches, I gave away my leaves, you chopped me up for housing, then ran off, leaving me. I gave away my dirt, and gave away my air, I gave away the water, you said you'd none to spare. I gave away my patterns, I gave away my age, I gave away all I had, and you'd just take and take. And now that I have nothing, I sit alone, and cry I think how I am now a stump, and you didn't even say goodbye.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Giving Trees and Cruelties