The Naked Truth
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Whispers dance inside my head
Reflections glance at a substance dead
Confirmations of my unpoetical pen
Only white spaces mirrored back
No one has a word to say
The mirror tells I should go away
The oceans piers toss me deep
Into contemplation of my rude upkeep
Sheepish sins, bitter gin
The naked truth
No one reads my scribbles doo
Oh how my dribble makes me blue
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2017
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