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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1340305 |
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Misery Moon
I walk this sorrow; deep as a furrow, fresh plowed each morrow, chasing the moon. I learn to borrow hatred too thorough, and love so narrow doled out in spoons. Pleading and praying, bleating and braying, Moon, are you gazing on this sad fool? Waxing and waning what light remaining forever staining my ragged soul. Written for:"Invalid Item"
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