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"ramic" poems
I was. All M x i d e up. Forgetting the difference. Between fear and family. But bye the grace of circles, I have been re new ed. Like a new shoot of straw that straggled behind the beast And preserved itself among the season. I glimmer in the grey, I was born within the dew. I listen to y oar boats of silence Braking up the day. Bye the grace of circles. I am pan o ramic. Now I have a compass which points in true direction A place where I am lead. Bye a breath. A new home re m e mbered Piece by Peace I am man u factured
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
Bye the grace of circles