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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Family >> ID #1616840 |
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The injustice of amor
Is that one can suddenly Choose to love No more Where did this idea come from? Why is it here? Who would want to throw everything away After so many staggering years? Love is nothing but white wash Splashed vicariously onto a fence And you the cold metal scraper Not just removing the worn and weathered flakes But also the entire canvass.
© Copyright 2009 Steven A Clayberg (UN: sclayberg at Writing.Com).
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