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Storms
February 19, 2013
Bittersweet trust drops like acid onto the sidewalk weaved into tears.
Priorities are the equivalent to muffled words and blurred mind sets.
Trembling monsoons whirl inside your mind.
Whirring clocks, tick tock.
Withering and wavering, fragile and non resilient.
Death isn’t silent or invisible, death a storm you feel coming.
© Matt F., Pierz, MN
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