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Sometimes I get the feeling No one’s watching over me Pulled back; my skin is peeling Yet it cannot set me free. You cannot keep me from reeling At the sights I’ve shown to thee Closed up-the deal is sealing And I’m sure I’ve lost the key. But now for my departure I will not forget the land That which hath brought me torture And the taste on my tongue bland. I admit that I’m not mature But that shouldn’t keep me banned This path I walk is a lure Unloved is my brand. I still haven’t found a priest Deep it is my cut Alliances say that I must feast Don’t hear my protest: but . . . It is then, I hear the beast Worry fills my gut He is why my heart has ceased Run out hath my luck. - Sophia Stone |
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Books The silent sanctuary Where all noise is blocked out You are separated from the world You embrace another’s life As though it is your own Anger Happiness But When you turn that last page You may not feel satisfied But there is always Another door You just have To open it - MW
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