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Nothing
July 11, 2015
I was laying,
quietly swaying,
staring the ceiling
and the rough texture peeling.
My soul eroded,
heart loaded,
with despair,
with flare.
Emptiness was all that filled me.
I was a book with no ending.
I was a bird chirping
and moaning.
I was a poet
hurt and insane
I was an ocean of pain,
eyes showering
the never ending rain
I was everything
I could be without you
Nothing.
© Trenton O., Highland, UT
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