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I am uncertain about a lot of things, but we all go round with cuts and dings,
I am scared for my path, but we all have been through some sort of math,
After I leave this behind, who will know the reason or the rhyme, to the story I am about to tell?
I told him once that I sung in sorrows high above that branch which stood so unshakable,
but where I really was he could not find, and where my words were spoken, I was not able
to tell him how his presence really altered my being and the way which I once sought,
ought not to be something I should tell,
But my life is something unspoken, broken and shaken..... and my God I will live to tell it.
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Who Am I?
Sometimes I wonder who I am
This being I call me
I'm just one soul in millions
A bubble on the sea
Just one, small voice
Silence in the Silence
My silence is so revealing
yet no one seems to know
that in my silence I am
replaying the days events
MY LAST TEAR
I was sent to war as a young man.
I was told we had to make a stand.
To fight another man I didn't know.
The wedge has been pounded in yet again.
A selfish v, who makes the raw hurts open
Wider yes wider until
My seams split,
I'm like a flower that nobody sees.
Blooming with passion,
stinging with Please.
My life is a storm,
in which I have mastered.
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Poetry: My life
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