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Atonement

I want to ingrain the image
Of that
Broken face,
Stitched together
Hastily with
Trembling fingers yet
Drowning in
Desperation and
Faulty pits of
Emptiness,
Which collapse
Heavily
Like wet sand,
Into their
Consciousness,
And let the guilt
Build and
Sift through the
Sordid
Rust and
Pollution that
Has settled behind their
Eye sockets and
Clouded
Their vision,
For,
Maybe,
Then,
They will see the
Damage
They have
Done.





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