A love supreme

Oh Lord, my God,  I fell asleep,

No longer in a state of grace,

No longer a beautiful woman, 

No longer a poet, beloved by the Emperor,

I am a harlot, like Mary Magdalene,
A sister of the Christ - dazzled by the myrrh,
By an acre of sorcery,

Destroyed by a terrible moon
By the time of the month; by everything being too late, or too soon.

By the phases of the moon.
Give me you...

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Also by John E Marks:

Written near water | THE TIME TORN MAN | Digital love: Digital grief | As the light declines | the speech of angels | Reading the signs | Ecrasez l’infâme | The rhythm of a dream | UNVEILING THE HEART | Regret | Sylvia's Father says | Torn | Irish Times | Tender is the Night | Commitment | An august poem | Place of Recovery | Dead end street | OH, WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD | The apothecary's nightmare | So you think you can tell heaven from hell? | Only love can break your heart | KURDISH POEM: 1492 | ABOVE: THE VAULTED SKY | Out on the currant bun - in an elephant's trunk. | ANGELUS BELL | PROPERTY IS THEFT | Insomnia | Aberfan: in remembrance | stormy weather | Buddhas of Bamiyan, Resurrected as Holograms | Chiaroscuro | A drinking man | Running for my life |

Can You See The Ships at Sea

The darkness finally comes

after a long battle

Two ships sail pass

this ocean blue

Sailing past each other

into the sunset

Keeping my eyes on the blue

it's all I can see

There are no ships for me

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Also by kimberly:

You Never Cease To Captivate Me | The Basis of My Character(s) | All I Need | Secrets | 1-2-3 | This Too Shall Pass | In a Sea of Lonely Nights | Poetry Readings | Romance is Dead | Clouds Dancing in the Sky | Shelter from the Storm | Exposed | Seize the Moment | Great Expectations | War Stories | Get Lost in the Pouring Rain | Think of Me |

A Song for Europe

In fifteen eighty eight the Spanish navy came to fight,

to claim the crown King Philip thought was his god-given right.

Now millions of us fly to Spanish islands in the sun.

The wars are long forgotten, the Armada is long gone.


So sing for Europe, sing for peace, and sing to make amends.

Let’s raise a glass of sangria to all our Spanish friends.


The French are nearer ne...

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Corona virus concern

The train station and airport in Wuhan,China have been shut down,

Wuhan has been the epi centre of the outbreak I sadly frown.

Corona virus a  public health issue of global concern,

Visitors to China put into quarantine on their return.


Manchester is twinned with Wuhan take heed,

Nearly 5000 students from China the universities feed.

Millions of Chinese travel for the lunar ...

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Also by hugh:

Boris' mounting debts | A turning point | Stop before your Op ! | The grief of a newly married husband | Give your health a boost in twenty twenty |

What is it that makes me love you?

What it is that makes me love you,
in this inexplicable connection,
that while you sleep I would abduct your heart?

What it is that makes me love you?

Without offering anything, only these nights of memories,
you to enter into my body silently,
reincarnated in the monologue of my dreams

I would die for a kiss from you, if necessary...
a kiss on the tenuous thread of dawn,
there clos...

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The Tattered Umbrella


Moonbeam fades
and dark clouds invade
raindrops fall at the
rain soaked feet..
The umbrella of friendship
tattered with holes
refuse to protect me today..

Thoughts run back
to another dark night,
where it rained as fiercely as now..
Yes, I was soaked, that day too
not from the umbrella- yet not tattered-
but from trying to protect a friend
from the cascading rain..
The raindro...

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loss of friendshiplove

A Better World

We should all feel safe when in the street.
Wherever we may go and whoever we meet.
And if there's one thing that should be clear,
We should not go outside while we live in fear.

Yes, all the people have the right
To live in peace and without a fight.
And it is our right to go out somewhere
To feel secure and free of care.

And I do hope to have an expectation
That people shall have mo...

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Also by Stuart Vanner:

Lawyers - Victims or Villains | Differences | Movies | Is there a God? | Masks We Wear | Our Countryside | A New Year |

HopeSafetyStuart VannerThe Streets

Dogs Do Not Read



Read to your children

but do not read to your dog

your children will always remember

your dog will just scratch

and take a nap


dogs are not literary animals

they'd sooner chase cars

or watch the Nature Channel

on TV


they do not care for books

even coloring books


they have their eye

on squirrels and birds

and other creatures

that co...

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Also by d.knape:

Goodbye Fly | Wild Oats | Nut & Bolt | Clutter | The Little Lutheran Church | Customer Survey | Sudden Stops | SIMPLICITY | What Makes A Boy | So Brief A Life | The Hearing-Impaired Line | Paperboy Quarterback | ICE | Cold Reality | Washing Away The Blues | The Smell Of Old Books | The Cliffs Of Norfolk | Working Stiff | What's Good About Old Age | Cash & Credit---a poem by O.L. Buzzerd | Waves of Poems | Plastic Jesus | His Own Little World | ROOTS | Song Of The Wild Geese | Fish & Visitors | RAINBOWS | Margins | Refurbished Poem | Going To Get The Mail |


Subjugation and extinction

a fine aim indeed.

A small price to pay

for a masterplan to take shape


Domination without question

a fine aim

not without its problems.


The amnesia of evil

a small price to pay

for the haunting of the past.


Of course it had to fail

but it was thought necessary at the time

and now the ghosts have risen up


a small ...

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Also by ray pool:



This life has been painful and filled with sorrow

Spent a lot of nights wishing for no tomorrow

Curating a resume that makes me seem successful

Constantly feeling like I’m not living up to my potential

The pressure I put on myself is unbelievably stressful

Feeling worthless unless I’m chasing a credential


Acting like I’m smart, but I must be faking

Repeating the actions t...

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new year

Never ending roundabout discussions

Every reunion going nowhere

Endless frustrations with each repeat

Always about you, never about me

You never saw that but agreed when I said

You don’t need to respect my wishes for no contact

Just respect me

I respect me and nowhere together is now somewhere alone

Happier me

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When I see the words "Poetry Competition"

I envisage the portals of poetical perdition.


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Also by M.C. Newberry:



When you remember a past event

The actual event you do not recall

Your brain is remembering the last time you remembered it

So perhaps it never happened at all

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Also by Joe Marcello:


Under Parrs Wood

Under Parr’s Wood

A Poem inspired by Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, as read by Richard Burton, and set on Burton Road in Didsbury…


To begin at the beginning…or the end of the road, which is a kind of a beginning.

It is Spring, and the mosque stands guard, though few burqas promenade its street or frequent its bars. Its spire punctures the sky, echoes of the old Methodist Chapel and...

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Also by mike booth:

Grim up North? |

Sefton Park

To Sefton Park, I have visited today.
But it was so different in every way!
I bought a coat hanging from a tree.
It didn't fit my friend but it fitted me!

Magically it turned colour once worn.
It was a beautiful coat, cosy and warm.
Trees we then saw in a pair they came.
Record breaking with a strange name.

We had never heard that name before.
Shelter they gave as the rain did pour.

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Also by Mike Bartram:

Seems Like Yesterday | The Fly | 'Mr July' | Mary |


It's been a hard day

Smiling pretending everything is fine

If I pretend it feels better

If I do it enough it hurts less

I haven't texted you all day

I haven't ran to you

I keep telling myself I don't need you anymore

I keep telling myself I don't love you

But a voice in my head keeps saying, " Be patient, be kind, show yourself self-love."

Then I look at my arm the word ...

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Also by Jacqueline L Elias:

Letting Go | Warrior of God | I Love Me | Urge | I Forgot |

courageemotional painheartbreakLasting Hopeself-lovestrength

Ignore my halty words,

My pain tinged sorrow.

My words are too lucid...

too funny ....

I know.

Then you are ignoring

Your very own-






And a part of yours may be.

So, I have to agree its no poem at all,

at all.

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Promise |

If I were!!

If I could paint the picture of love

It would have the generous eyes like yours

The truthful lips with your pinkish texture

And the image submerged in your fragrance


If I could sing a song of love

The lyrics would quote your lovely name

And the words would spell the memories you left

Each sentence would have your rhythmic heart beat


If I could take a stroll in the...

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I’m grateful for the time I got,
Lord knows I never thought I’d amount to a lot,
But I’m happy, with what I’ve achieved given that I never even thought I’d get a shot,
And all those misspent days of youth,
Where I burnt the candle at both ends and in the middle,
 Mean that it’s no riddle why I am the way am, that’s just the truth,
And if I needed proof I’d see my Doctor,
Or ask anyone that ...

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Also by Jason Bayliss:

Years, Miles And Sunlit Smiles | Show Me Your Brave Face | The Temple Ruins | River's Edge | Spoken Fears & Token Tears | 2 to 1 | Triggered | True Names | Yesterdays Tomorrows | Four Rings |

Arc of Silence

A recent visit to majestic Saint Petersburg was the catalyst for this rumination.


Arc of Silence

Please hold my hand

Until you're completely sure

That you understand; I am

Not as I was (quoting Hitchen

As his death drew near).


Please hear my pleas, comprehension

Being the triumph of years

Expended or forlorn. Draw

Down the blinds that obscure

A countenanc...

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Also by Chris Hubbard:

Outside Painters | Nirvana |

BBC Radio York on Friday evening 31st January

Text post, and 'at work' :(

I'm on the airwaves @8.20pm Friday during the Harry Whittaker show - reading Mudland - although I did record the audio in a very creepy voice, I'm very sorry about that.  wish me luck!


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BBCgreat fame momentcelebrity member

Still here

Today is not over yet,

Which means yesterday may have been the hardest day of your life,

As if you were driving down a never-ending dead end, stuck in reverse;

But you are still here.


You can’t recall the time your mother held you out of the bedroom window,

The blaze within threatening to scorch you, your cradle and home,

The scent of smoke on your baby clothes has long sinc...

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Also by Graham Parker and his musings:

Into the Blue |




















Read and leave comments (0)

How Cruel Are You

Children sent into the unknown . Miles from where they were born . Miles away from home . Movement of Children in care . Cruelty at the Core . Sent away from their Birthplace . To destinations unknown . To be shunned treated with contempt . Used Abused and in the unknown . No one to love them . No one to care and Share . Without the love all children need to make them feel secure . To have a stabl...

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Also by Wendy A Higson:

A Monopoly Of Victims | Is It Too Late | Condemned | Living in Cloud Cuckoo Land | Overgate Hospice |

Oxford Comma

The mint is rousing incandescent ire

to prompt a famous writer’s Twitter shout,

with grammar nazis fuelling the fire,

because an Oxford comma’s been left out.


They’ve struck a coin to honour Brexit day

and that’s what all the brouhaha’s about;

‘cause many of these angry people say

the Oxford comma shouldn’t be left out.


There’s just as many say there is no need,


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Also by Trevor Alexander:

January | Accusation |


Silence eats at my soul

Others share truths I can not reveal

blind to how the information makes me feel

Trapped in the truth

no way out

Held captive by the lies

I can not look the offender

in the eyes

And say "I know"

Read and leave comments (0)


When I go for a walk, I don't just walk. I watch. I watch the clouds drift by effortlessly across the sky. I see people, animals, birds in the trees. Standing, walking, watching, just like me.

When I go for a walk, I don't just walk, I listen. I listen to the sound of the cars speeding by me. The planes flying high above me, the noise of the children playing joyfully. Moving freely, just like m...

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Doctor Death and the New Faces

Elizabeth Woodville is my first nursing placement,

a spot where a man might be put and forgotten.

Sister Wesson’s routine with every new student

is to introduce the bed corners and curtains

then leave them to chat with some random person.


And so I’m conversing with one Howard Sargent;

he’s sharing a fag with a fellow patient,

who’s called Doctor Death - we’re already acqu...

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My Dad Said 3

'Cynthia, Honey,

Life is not all tea and roses.

Sometimes, it's slops and skunk cabbage.'


And Mum would add a line,

'Deal with it.'

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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

May Morning | Winter Trees | Man in a Crowd | My Dad Said 2 | The Waiting Room | Thoughts in Daylight |

The Bad Artist


something like an eye charmed them 
down from the sky
twenty-four Canada geese jostling
petrified gods and unicorns
around a garden pond

the boldest took the plunge
and all hell broke loose
fortyeight wings fought for space
resembling a spitting cooking pot
our birds boiled alive for goose stew

the bad artist originally concieved,
his faery-tale landscape growing with each step...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

(untitled) | Untitled | Ross's Poem | Rigour | This Poem | Hearts And Minds | You Are Here |

Paris 1944, 2004

‘Tenez bon. Nous arrivons,’

the liberators told the restless Resistance

in messages dropped from the sky.


Von Choltitz held firm, defying

Hitler’s demand to fire the city.

‘Come quickly,’ he urged the Allies.


Laval and Petain fled as Paris rose;

hundreds died before the ceasefire.

Sixty years on, our Friday Eurostar


from Waterloo packed with rugby fans.


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Also by Greg Freeman:

Expats | January Swear Box | The black beach | PANTO! |

The (not so) Happy Place

They tell me, “time heals all wounds” 

But I’m not sure that’s quite true 

When the 5’11” wound that needs healing 

Is the absence of you 

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Cait Abbott:

3 Lines | The Weakness | A Little Distance (will do us some good) | Message In A Broken Bottle | Torture |




We crossed the Chantry Bridge

As the Calder boiled beneath

And a drifting, chilling mist

Hung heavy on the heath

We came from far and wide

Marching all together

To gather at Belle Vue

Despite the dank, inclement weather


There were grandfathers and fathers

There were mothers, daughters, sons

Hand in hand in heavy coats

As the frost caressed ...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

NEW POETRY OPEN MIC NIGHT IN WAKEFIELD | Jingle Jangle | In Other News | resolution |

1960'slocal rivalryrugby leaguesupporterwakefield trinitywinter game

Too deep

I really wish I went to college 
I can’t believe I trusted that bitch
But was it love or just a lack of knowledge 
Shit hurt my heart seeing my big brother 
Cuff a bitch that had mileage 
He went to jail, she told him I tried to fuck ha
Ian even have no money 
So ion even know why the butch was lying 
Niggas buy anything a bitch tell em when they in jail  
But damn big Jevo Ian even have ...

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Hard Times

We’ve been here before;

suck it up,

be the man.

You’ll get more

as you grow.

Revisiting moments

with frames of pain

loaded in hard times.

You ain’t the only

nor it is the last,

you’ll survive,

but do you learn?

Yell, scream, cry…

whatever the fuck you do

don’t lose focus.

You aren’t ignored young blood

they’ve gat pressing shit to handle,

make you...

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Don't look back (don't ever do that)


Don't look back

don't ever do that

the past lives there

with its wild despair,

its puddles of pity

all dark and gritty.

There's joy there too,

and patches of blue.

The mean ol' reds,

where you lost your head. 

A kaleidescope of feeling

to keep you reeling.


Be where you stand,

see what's at hand:

marvels to see,

new ways to be,

colors so cle...

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Also by trixtex:

Sparkle Sun |


Open letter to god

Are you there god?

Are you sure?

What gives life

To all the poor?

When your all good.

Why do we have

So much blood?

When your sat in heaven

Why kill our children?

When your so sublime

Why make life like

A poor mans mime?

If you answer prayer.

Why give cancer

Its ghastly lair?

You’ve lost your touch.

Its all too much.

When there’s so much war.


Read and leave comments (0)

Mr. Rogers

As I sit on the couch thinking of what makes me relevant

I think back and can’t remember what was the last thing I did excellent

I could take a page out of the worlds book and think of the successes of others 

Or I can relay my own success until I expose all of their vexes

Mr. Rogers came to my mind with a spurge of loathing but then I remembered how monumental his memory has come to b...

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Also by Miguel Soto:

A New Day | Stories |


Pretty much the only poem I have that is appropriate for Holocaust Memorial Day.

(Artwork: "Rabbi Loew and the Golem", from "The Prague Golem: Jewish Stories from the Ghetto", ed. Harald Salfellner, Vitalis, 2016. The artist is uncredited)



(Prague, 1939)


For centuries I’ve lain here undisturbed,
this synagogue’s hushed attic my bedchamber,
the life-spark in me stilled...

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poetryJewish folkloreHolocaustmemorial


(The counterpart to my previous "We are the Baby Boomers")


We are Millennial Snowflakes

So PC and woke

Always wearing pained expressions

Suffering from acute depression

Being young is oh-so stressful

Life’s beyond a joke

There’s no-one suffers more than me

Why, yesterday most cruelly

I got no signal on 4G

I need a snort of coke.


And we Millennial Snowflak...

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Also by John Coopey:



I didn't ask for this.

I didn't ask to show me a glimpse of happiness. 

I didn't ask to show me how love could feel. 

But now, 14 days into the new year I got to experience it. 


I got to experience the butterflies.

I got to experience a genuine smile. 

I got to experience what fate looked like. 

What destiny felt like. 


I was happy. 

I was giddy. 

I was hope...

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Also by SNR ❤:


Girls and their phones

Sonething I have wanted to write about for some time now.  Here is first attempt:


Train, tram, bus, car, walking or whatever,

You will see what this poem is about,

just as clearly as the weather.


Girls on their phones.

Girls who are perhaps so forlorn.

Girls who might be so alone,

Just like dogs without their bones.


Epidemic that has spread nationwide,


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Also by David Addington:

British Steel | Ode to the Lem | Here Lies 1985 | Back to the primitive | This is the six O'Clock news |

mobile phonesmodern life


I found that old crate full of

dried Black Walnuts you left

acrid and hard

little balls of ancient elephant skin

I took one

to drop among the folds

of your coffin

perhaps tuck it under your sleeve

No prying undertaker

or sanctimonoius son

would ever see it

But I couldn't find you there

you seemed long gone from that polished

joke of a room


When the w...

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Also by Charles M Cann:

The Matriarchs | Xmas 1992 | Bone |


Syllables paint the walls

a coherent mess

fumbling from corner to corner,

eroding my haven.

Skin scraped by sharp rhetoric’s

that bounce from surfaced stone,

hard and beating.

I want a smothering of hard plaster

to heal the wounds.

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by Hannnah:

The Light Box | Two Thousand And Eight | Recall |


Learning won't stop

After uni, college or school

You may reach the top

Yet still feel a fool

For each day

Brings new teachers

In many a disguise

Though sadness

Will feature

In the end

You'll be wise

We're all learning


Just not in a class

We find out 

The best things

From our days

As they pass

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Also by Ruth O'Reilly:

Sussexit | Eggs before hearts | The writing process |

life lessons

Shadow Dancing

My shadow dances with yours 

in the abyss of silence, 

head down, darkness all around,

waltzing towards sparks of light

from our melded soul.


Read and leave comments (2)

Also by Vautaw:

Swim with Me | Lonely Girl | Dear John | TAG | Two Lives | Disappearing Ink | Ghost | A Thousand Years of Peace |



They seek shelter from the rain

In the doorways of the city

Although the lights shine so bright

Believe for them it's far from pretty

Watching the world pass them by

In a kaleidoscope of grey

Feeling like nobody notices them

As we continue with our day

All they ask for is a moment

Someone to stop and talk

Providing them with some comfort

From life's painful, lonely...

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50 dollars buys less every day (01/25/2020)

this old couch 
a rested place 
of day dreams :
A sanctum for the spittle of birds 
breaking in with the early dawn. 

and each window, in the winter 
a mouth of frost, 
vignettes of cold rolling thru the glass with ease 

i can feel my breath on my teeth
heating and cooling these tines
tuning truths on a good day 
hoping for just
 white lies on all the rest :
mild discomforts, acid...

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Also by Zach Dafoe:

some of these are lies in the future (01/17/2019) |

Crowbars and where to find them


No one could come close to you in my eyes it's you 

I think about you constantly, with out you life is blue

you tease sometimes you hurt my feelings, I cry 

Yet with out you I would curl up and just die

you are my everything, my love, my man yes you

I could walk away from anything except you,  my glue





Read and leave comments (0)

Also by The_Northern_Lass:

Grandad | Insomnia. | Crystal | Tree of death | Two Angels | I am still here | She woke up dead | Snow | Floaters in the eye | Boy on a platform 4 | Girl on a platform | Boy on a platform 3 | Boy on a platform 2 | Boy on a platform 1 | Peace | 2012 | (untitled) | Extra Extra | Diet | Diet Prayer | My Friend Phil | Last Night | Wanna be a star | Hate | Lottery | Aunty Fanny’s Funeral | Fashion | Bangladesh | Granny | Poetry | Cold Sore | It’s All Gone | Miss Polly | Shop Sale | Pie From Wigan | Dead Roses | Platform Shoes | Valentine | Mannequin lover | Mam | Taken | Fortune Teller | Gossip | Tinitus | Glass Houses | John No More | DEATH | My Child | Dieters Poem | Dirty Windows | Mother Earth | Marie The Poet | Twin Sisters | War | Menopause | Shingles | Lucky lucky lucky | Not me, dont judge | Obesity the silent cry |

got your letterLove

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