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A Soul With Sight
Our souls are like small houses in a field...
Some keep their windows closed up like a shield..
Others throw open their french doors and
let the whole world in..
There are a few that peek through the basement
windows and hide in sin..
I try to stay on the top floor with the curtains
drawn open wide..
I gaze hopefully out my window, but even with or
without mistakes I can't hide...
I need to see for I can write, for the world outside
my soul is my sight..
Copyright ©
Michael J. Falotico
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