love these poems

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so  many people tell me

that I need to open up

but not a single person

understands that every time

I pry apart my rib cage

releasing all the butterflies

that have been hiding there for years

people are to busy swatting them away

to realize what I have done for them

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((saw this on a pic))

all that is gold

does not glitter

not all those who wonder

are lost

the old that is strong

does not wither

deep roots are not reached

by the frost

from the ashes a fire

shall be awoken

a light from the shadows

shall spring

renewed shall be blade

that was broken

the crownless

again shall be king

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