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Results of Solitude

Poetry has the power to tame even a shrew...it can penetrate the strongest of minds within the twinkle of an eye.

Deep wounds makes the soul bleed

Who am I?

Cousin to pain.

The rose among the thorns.

Exuding beauty, sharing light

A breath of fresh air,

But choked out of existence.

Humans... Humanity,

After their own happiness... Never giving a

thought about yours.

Who am I?

Daffodils... Making all around look gay. Connecting you to nature's deepest secrets,

But trampled upon

By ungrateful souls.

Who am I?

My soul bleeds...

Out of sorrow from your sheer blindness.

Blind to love

Blind... Bland... Bitter

© 2021 Juliet Michael

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