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The windows were all foggy
From the cold winter nightThe tree leaves were drenched
The chirping of the birds diedThe flowers refused to bloom
The wind signaled the stormAnd I sat there waiting quietly
Adoring the beauty in simplicityIt's been almost seventeen years
My patience faded away like tearsMy door mat welcomed strangers
They never ever stayed long thereQuick as lightening I packed away
The unnecessary souvenirsAs I held the key to the locked box
I whispered"You will be far more safer in here"
L.S•••
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DESOLATE
Poetry·•·°·•·°·•· De·so·late So many things could describe my poetry. It is a combination of bliss and bittersweet. One may describe it as the divine taste of strawberries. With a slight twist of sour cherries. You may have it dipped in chocolate with...