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An Ode To Poetry

i am buried in these noise
the demands shout like
market vendors
sometimes one is confused
where to start
seemingly there is no end
to all these bickering

spaces expand
distances travel like fading sounds of the day
there are storms
i am frightened but you
are there
that comforting whisper
to my ear

sweet sounds of sorrow
gentle groans of gypsy
ohh, poetry pampered...

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