The cold light of the winter's morning sun
cuts thru my good intentions, lasts nights spirits, now drain cleaner
my pride pricked, slinking back to the mundane life
i have learned to love
The cold light of the winter's morning sun
cuts thru my good intentions, lasts nights spirits, now drain cleaner
my pride pricked, slinking back to the mundane life
i have learned to love
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These are wonderful poems. I'm looking forward to reading more. The minimalism of the posts is also beautiful. Refreshing.
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