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 The Written Art...


There's a picture of me
dancing on a moon beam
enveloped by deception
misery at my feet
shamed by the pride
of skillful lovers
a mother in waiting
alarmed at a past
that was my future
present at hand
hollowed to the core
shoveling deceit
to virgin lives
dredging through the sea
for the truth untold
a lover in waiting
shadowed by despair
finding that truth
was never really there
hollowed is the tune
of a broken heart
released into
the courteous night.

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