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Just like the previous
I know I will reach the point
When I will stop what I am doing now
Just like the previous ones once
For no reason at all I cease what I am
I stop, and pause and look at the main
The essence of what was left once simply
Because it remains unsolved, the main
Reason why all these come about
That which I cannot face because it is too harsh.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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