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What I Left Behind
My dreams locked behind
A thousand doors,
My genuine voice,
Life without remorse.
Self-portrait that’s free
Of the wrinkled despair,
Rhetorical questions
Of how and where.
Whimsical, drunken
Scent of the hope,
A love letter
Burnt in the last envelope.
I stepped on this land
And time ceased to exist.
Since then I had wondered
Whose image it is.
Saturday 6th February 2021 10:06 pm
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