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poems (25) preachy shit (6)

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Random

What is touch?
A touch of time.
A hand of fate
A fate in rhyme
With feelings felt
And lessons learnt
Of freezing touch
And fire burnt.
In burning woods
We run and hide
We run in vain
Against the tide.
The ocean drowns
All happiness
It lowers hope
In hollow breasts.
No hope I see
No touch I feel
Just randomness
And empty zeal.

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