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Black Coffee

I keep His house This ain’t My home I got chores for a life — turned cold: black coffee sipped alone. The doors lead to walls Windows broken glass Plaster holds scars hid — of unforgiven’d deepening cracks. Man of

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Posted in Poe'ems

As Thoughts are Sentenced

Hostile words released. One word follows another, As thoughts are sentenced. Both hearts burned eternally In smoldering emotions. Repression by words Never polite; soon ignite. Insecurities. Formed in passive-aggressions. Time heals all wounds: don’t they say? Much could be spoken,

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Posted in Poe'ems
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