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July 15th,1991 Poem
Half gone;
half thru...
Half baked;
Simmer blue
Thumbing through
a book of
blank
pages
Feeling frustration
consternation
Beginnings end
the same,
As a numbness
Creeps into my brain
Buries the pain
and the past
but at what price,
all tomorrows due
Sort of barnacled upon
The high tide postmark of life
poem
by
Midnights Voice
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