April 24, 2012
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A Promise
What is it?
Trust only the distance you spit
Nothing more
Vague idea, spirits soar
But a mere suggestion
Take it into question
Far more fragile than
Glass, china or porcelain
Crafted only from words
Delicate bone of birds
Liable to snap
Broken in your lap
With a change of wind
Change of mind
Nothing concrete
Open to deceive
Take it with a grain
Of salt, wane
Your hope a little
Each sentence a riddle
Keep your eyes keen
For broken words
Flock thicker than birds
With broken hearts
Their usual counterparts

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