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angelus

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Here is a bit of poetry from one of my notebooks,I just write out free form,I have no title for it.Its very brief

Of all the lies I tell the worst are to myself
Full of loud and thunderous air they fall upon the waiting floor
Nothing left now but fading jumbled images of days now gone
Sigh and note the passing gloom knowing its nothing new
 
Hi Angelus,

How depressing! lol

Nice thought, though. I think it was original.
 

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