Unsteady
My masked that's concealed by my yearning hands
That shine through the narrow cracks of my fingers
What is that bright light on the other side of my walls
That I refuse to open up
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Freebird986
Writing is a passion that I harbor in a bottle too often. It's hard for me to express my words out in the open with out stuttering, or losing what I want to say. For me, poems capture what the heart can't say out loud. Poetry helps those thoughts become heard and I am more than willing to hear others as well.
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