Posted by fumes in
Poetry on 04 3rd, 2008 |
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Where does it hurt the most?
In the depths of the heart.
Sealed it with the thick puddle of a concoction,
And a patch of cloth.
With a unwinding thought,
Let the world not see the wound!
My mother says it would heal,
And days pass by to reveal just a brown latch of time.
Days have winded away,
Giving...