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Wear And TearThe ever constant wear and tear, Leaves my nerves in bits. I feel confused and not amused And long to quietly sit! One day I'm living poetry In sunshine and soft breeze. Then a storm frowns down on me And mocks with sneering tease! I then adjust and try to deal With this torment, cruel. I do my best to smile awhile And not to look a fool! I step on egg shells every day, It's becoming quite an art. But no one seems to understand I hide a broken heart! Joy Weare. 2nd June, 2005. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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