poem (Remove filter)
They come from far
Blind, I grown blind.
No color, no light.
Pain, I felt pain.
No matter, no gain.
Looking through the mirror glass,
things happen afar.
Taking notion of them,
as they were part.
There's no true,
there's no lie,
everything stays shy.
Scream, scream for those who can't.
Deaf, I am deaf.
No sound, no play.
Help, they need help.
...Tuesday 13th December 2016 9:25 am
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