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Sunday, 6 December 2015

Living

You say my writings,
Have turned frustrating,
And that I can say nothing more,
I should just let go.

Do you wonder about an anomaly?
Time heals all, eventually,
Still I hold on to love,
My lost treasure trove.

You must understand this,
My words are therapeutic,
Medicine to a chronic hurt,
Lets me sleep at night.

You must believe me,
I can't open myself anymore,
My heart survives on past,
I repeat what I've said before.

I wish there were two suns,
I wish there were two moons,
I wish there was a world,
Where there are two of her.

She is my life and my soul,
Yet far away is her dwelling,
So I create another her with my words,
And keep both of us living.

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