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chrisfel eliza

I don't think I think enough.
Monday, February 26, 2018
“Stars”

The girl sits alone with her art
Seems her words are the only way
To mend her broken heart
Like her life is the fiction not found
Her real image in writing is staring straight back
Her protagonist has broken hope
The typewriter pause, then the words come out slowly
Like teardrops, fall on the page
In an instant her soul, released from its cage

Sam Airey

chrisfel at 01:58