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Addicted

Some days it feels like I am addicted to the sweet smelling nectar of sorrow tears stream down like rivulets of rain from the leaves of my being gathering in a pool at my feet I watch in the silence of the morning as the joy and freedom the laughter and childlike thrill of life melt into the puddle yet I so wish I could feel the happiness that once was there where did it go what have I become a pitiful addict of suffering loss and pain

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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