| Open Poetry #47 |
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Survival |
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Xeonox![]() ![]()
since 2000-04-01
Posts 1764CA, USA
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Words come to my aid, As my poetic talent seems to fade, Laying there like a half full cup, Look for new muses to lead me out of this rut, No sense in reminiscing about the past, More often than not, a dark shadow is cast, This white clear moment carries a sign of revival, Maybe, somehow it will lead to my ultimate survival. I speak insanity. I write fantasy. I sleep reality. |
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| © Copyright 2011 Ronil B Tataria - All Rights Reserved | |||
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dreamgal Member
since 2011-03-17
Posts 442 |
Im saying what I "KNOW" lol and that is your cup is filling up from my point of view i enjoyed this alot. Keep writing and thanks for sharing. Dreamgal |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Ah yeah, Xeonox, just keep plodding along, everything will work out. THIS is good. ~ I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time" / I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance. ~ |
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