Draft
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This you see is a draft
Minds little notes of lines and verse
In dribs and drabs
In prose, I stab and stab
Repeating oft said words
Expressions rehashed to be reheard
Yearning only for that one to see
This my attempt at being me
The ebb and flow of a sadness boat
Feeble attempts to keep afloat
Yet drowning in words it seems to be
Prose no longer setting me free
Learning more and knowing less
Wise words not heeded at best
For lingering in the dampness there
Is death, burning slow with its evil stare
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2017
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