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Blotches of paint
Ruin the mask
Of hope
Life and love

That time when the
Clocks ticks
No more
Will not be time

That place where
They gather
Will not be a
Resting place no more

For that is ruined
By simple
Blotches
of paint

But blotches that spread
As ink to paper
As to ruin the mask
For ever




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Ella1 said...
Feb. 4, 2012 at 11:16 am:
I love it, it's a new view of something so simple. Great job!
 
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