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The never-ending cycle of night and day
the morning sun
deep on my skin
breathing in the morning breeze
nobody here
to tear me apart
nobody here
to say that I am judged
sitting in the fresh air of mornings
taking in the singing
of the birds around
writing poetry...
deep on my skin
breathing in the morning breeze
nobody here
to tear me apart
nobody here
to say that I am judged
sitting in the fresh air of mornings
taking in the singing
of the birds around
writing poetry...
