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Sat, 12/31/2016 - 22:46 -- Eviek4

Beneath this dirt lies 

A duct fuller in life than 

In its own breath. 

 

The maple's roots 

Feed off its depths, 

As the sun drains my home 

In echoes of a tide lost

To a thousands years of 

Forest fire and to 

Your name. 

 

I am the whisper 

You never heard. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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