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Poetry: My pain

by Corban Burns

Why must you yell?

Still the fears of mortal man I must quell

Your words are those of an archer's arrows

As you shoot to kill,

Never to hurt.

Speaking with malice,

You cause a man's soul to grow callous

And a month of summer madness

Is turned into a year of bitter winter.

So long dear dreams

That I held close to my bosom

For it is now that I must embrace reality

Just two more years, until the end of my tears.

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