Your Poetry

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They say that in order to write,
Poets must bleed to make poetry.
Drowning in the pain of the night,
Words made from a broken memory.

A long time ago I also bled to write,
Reminiscing what could have been.
It was long before I found the light,
A spark nothing like I've ever seen.

You saved me from that curse,
The curse of writing as they say.
And now I write in this free verse,
No more of dark and stormy days.

-

Thank you for showing me that what's past is truly past. Thank you for showing me better and happier days.

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