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Poetry Poem
Friendship
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Screaming
The shouting, the screaming,
it echoes me mad,
and twists and knots tightly,
and thrusts me around.
Some days they are gentle,
so sweet and so mild,
but when they are devils ,
with fire in their eyes,
I feel hot and empty,
with little to give.
I try to breathe calmly,
and smile at them kind,
but inside I'm seething,
volcanic and wild!
Joy Weare.
8th November, 2004.
Screaming
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