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The understanding of lifeRate this Poem
My Poems
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Untitled |
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Crimson Wine |
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Cat Dreams |
Beauty
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Created on 3-30-08
A pen drops, a bird stirs,
yet I can not see.
Why must I be cursed this way?
They say I am beautiful,
yet I would rather see than be beautiful.
What is beauty in thyself,
when you can not see beauty around thyself?
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