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Tilden Hammond Dec 2016
Droplets pound songs for me. I listen and tell myself tomorrow will be different. The morning comes and the song is still playing. I scream in the thunder but it is no more than a whisper. It calls and I respond until I my voice is horse. The cracks of lighting tear at the sky and each time it hits me. Eroding I fall. Surrendering is hard and for the first time I cry. Tears fill my soul and I finally wash away.
1st poem

— The End —