Poem 24

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The Feeling


of strong arms

safe embrace of Old Spice.


When did it stop?

Childhood I was safe.


What happened

that caused this?


Starving for touch

never to be given.


Stuck in 

cold winter air.


Looking over shoulder

into shadows.


Touch craved

never given.


Taken.

It's always taken.



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Hi Y'all,

Here's another poem!

~ B. Whetstone

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