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My book is but an
empty sheaf of pages
unwritten upon
by any hand but my own

Not one jot - not one slip 
of the eternal pen
blemishes those glaring	spaces

Must my worth be counted
in the coin of whatever realm
others choose for me

I think not
Let me write my own
words upon my pages

My pen will spell out
the essence blind eyes
do not see

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 11/25/2018 7:31:00 AM
You are so astute Sherry, of what i've read of yours, wish i had the time, to spend more time, your inspiration is so powerful..
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things