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Wishing Well

The cherub sat mourning
Still and grieving
And through her life had seen
Intricate patterns, textures, cultures
All through her heart, these were weaving

Half dead tears
Through her lids spilled
A hopeless kind
Of stubborn will

This rooted through
Her very core
A lonely longing
Broken and ignored

And when grief bloomed,
Hope's petals fell
Which tumbled down
A wishing well





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