Poetry
Published: 20 December 2010
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The spark of idea
grows like a weed inside you
let its roots consume
What darkness is this
that dares to beckon my life
wither away now
The end of a dream
means the beginning anew
we all start over
Living like a bird
soaring with wings spread apart
brings with it a grace
Shallow and cruel you
swallows the weakling me
now, indigestion
Short is the anger
given to the tall woman
who says she's sorry