Writing poems after poem
He starts at sunset
Sometimes Writing until dawn
The words of his emotions
The words of his life song
Life unfilled pours from the pen in his hand
Spilling upon the page
Like a mighty ocean tide
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The evils of this World hold you by a leash to Stay in controll
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They were fools to interrupt this day My day Where I was to be wed to the man I love Did they not think I would be armed Did they not thin... -
Sons of night Wicked deeds Doomed they are
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