ripped to shreds by shreds my own
thought i'd finally found my home.
you grew, they grew, one at a time.
these voices, these people,
these enemies of mine.
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Poetic expression of a secret writer's thoughts; words from the soul written on the spot.
I suggest only one change...
ReplyDeleteyou grew, they grew, one at a time.
these voices, these people,
these enemies, mine.
It's a great one.
ReplyDeletethe poem I mean... not the change!
Delete