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Meds

I am artificial muddled by the thick wet clay and I can’t feel my heartbeat through the sculptors hands

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 4/28/2012 8:06:00 PM
Echoes of Sylvia Plath... and all those numbed by pharmaceuticals designed to heal but which so often disarticulate and confuse. BRAVO, Rachel! Best wishes, Keith
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Date: 3/9/2012 12:15:00 PM
A small poem ...it say alot: lovely done. - oxox hugs Anne-Lise
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Date: 3/8/2012 9:18:00 PM
mmm...I like it.
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Date: 3/8/2012 7:23:00 PM
Your poem is very powerful. Excellent title.
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Date: 3/8/2012 5:43:00 PM
i love the imagery in this poem and also the way the title gives the clue as to what it's about. great poem!
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Date: 3/8/2012 4:48:00 PM
Very Good!
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Book: Shattered Sighs