untitled 3

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    untitled 3

    i think about it sometimes when the sky is dark grey
    or when my toes are cold
    and i often wonder what occupied that space before-
    we had always agreed that you had seen it first
    i remember the way you grabbed my hand
    the way your eyes opened and closed
    almost as if you were in slow motion
    that was the last time i saw you smile-

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    lightcourier commented on untitled 3

    05-02-2009

    Snapshot of a moment nicely captured. Thanks!

    Madelynn commented on untitled 3

    04-03-2009

    You are undeniably talented.I am so happy I found your work.Awsomely desciptive.

    WordSlinger commented on untitled 3

    03-25-2009

    In rated this a 7, :)

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    simplypeace’s Poems (26)

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    mine 5
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