December 2, 2011
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The wind blows through the trees,
as it whips my hair,
i sit on the grass, pull up my knees,
as your heart traps me like a snare.
My mind's carefree, as you can see,
but still worrying about you,
will you see me, what I can be,
cause i can't see you.

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youngspeare said...
Dec. 11, 2011 at 5:29 am

nicely written! (: short but great. keep writing, hope to see more!

please check out my poem "Ghost of The Past" rate/comment? would appreciate it!

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