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From the darkened woodI walkto that hellish place where i once stoodI talkthe ghost of Chris pastis theremy futureHe mocksalcohol and dopewill bemy whips and stocks
It has been quite awhile, Lost in a world I did not belong in. Back to my roots where i was born in. Born again, Never looking back to the past that almost destroyed me. My mind melting, my thoughts clearing.
Speaking. Laughing. Whispering.  We soon take for granted what comes naturally for us. What's that? A Stroke? Diagnosis of Parkinsons?
I look down, And she looks up. My brown eye, to her black one.   I walk on above, she swims in the pool. Separated by only, Fifteen feet and a tilted pane of glass.  
(poems go here) Some people call them problems I do what I can to solve them The words don’t fall upon my lips I have to think and catch my grip Because my words require thought Some may ponder it a lot
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