Topic: Half | |
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Happy and free in
the glass house, getting stoned. No one can ever really know you 'til you go on your own. Your guitar to pawn, the gravel lawn. Gentle bites and bitter yawns. The yarn absorbs peace that I wrap 'round my neck. And my working-class noose ties a severance check. And my heart is broke as the clip on my pen, except one's ****ing useless and the other's getting bent. |
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Good to read you again plastic_pancakes
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...half ourselves, half not, half heart.
i enjoyed reading your poem.... ...thank you, plastic_panckakes. |
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Powerful feelings, powerful expression. Hang in there poet.
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Great imagery. Strong content
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As always,it bleeds life as I read.
((((((Colin))))) |
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Perfecto...
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Deep and strong meaning. Love this.
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I enjoyed reading your poem, plastic.
Looking forward to reading more. |
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