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Poetry
November 10, 2024
Baby Blue
Shall we now
Leave that of the past
Gone to be one with the creator
Torn down are the walls
Which held us here
Threads unraveling swiftly with time
Awakens the muse
With gentle touch
Painting brushstrokes of baby blue.-
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Anonymous
November 25, 2024 at 3:38 AM
beautiful stuff, all of it. =-)
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November 09, 2024
Fire
beautiful stuff, all of it. =-)
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