She, suffered in angst and a deep loneliness,
As her jasmined poertry, was new and just growing.
“What good are my poems regarding truthfulness
or honesty?”
Against seas of creative poems, puff-pretty, bright
And glowing?
The icy, winter,rains came and gave her not a
whisp of a warm answer.
Her soul and stomach did crave some reprise..
“No, no, rest, dear...
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