I keep telling myself:
somehow
I will survive this all
consuming emptiness and
unending loneliness.
But the air in my lungs plead with me;
my voice aches to be heard.
--- Ink and Wander
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Poetry - inking my soul (1)
PoetryI am trying my hand at original poetry, because sometimes the heart and soul demand to speak even when you refuse to. This is my first collection - and it consists of 20 poems. I have written more than 20 which should have been part of this collecti...
