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Hurricane

Her love was a tropical hurricane 
Drowning the souls who fell victim
The wind would pick up at the smell of rain
She never quite knew how to pick em

She loved those lost and those in hiding
She cared when the world gave up
No factors played part, in her, deciding
No such phrase as “enough is enough”

Her gift was her unconditional love
Her curse was her understanding
A consistent, gravitational tug
Attracting those, most demanding

A rubber ball, she bounced about
Not picky, but sticky as glue
Each soul she touched, a love would sprout 
Always trapped, in another’s shoes

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 6/5/2018 2:49:00 PM
Phenomenal poem Anna...a fav
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Date: 6/4/2018 1:28:00 PM
Your pen is on fire girlfriend.
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