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Untitled MAG
My dreams die with the leaves.
They shrivel up and scatter
withthe wind
leaving my mind as barren as
the great oak tree in mybackyard.
My soul stops with the lake.
It freezes and becomes
cold to touch
and hard to break through.
It stops me still inmy
tracks.
My tears fall like the snow.
Blizzards ofemotions
leaving banks of stress.
They fall at random
neverknowing ... never stopping.
© Anonymous
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Just because it's green doesn't mean it's edible!!!!