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Poetry By: RaisinGirl

this is disappointment in the one you love, and uncertainty of yourself....

Submitted:Jun 8, 2008    Reads: 135    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

I was nothing, but the dying flame of a candle, burning out,

You were forgotten, by the seaside, being tossed, turning about,

Spun-wool-threads were soon unraveling, quick...

A lonely woman uncertain, if living's a solid brick...

In a court, in a cage, four walls, makes me sick...

No windows, no justice, only lies, and dirty tricks...

But behind those blurred eyes, and below this fragile mind,

There is a hole within my pocket, and quicksand in the grind.


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