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Posted by MFish

I am transparent
as an opaque glass.
My mind still cloudy,
with words I amass.
Words of frustration,
not joyful to me,
but words dispicable,
is what I see.

I do not need this
at my point in life.
Enough, already,
she is still my wife.

Can you come the morrow,
at a quarter past three.
I'll be alone,
she's sitting next to me.

A Comment by Loy

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Loy • 12/15/2021 at 11:30PM • Like Profile

Extremely good poems tonight. Thank you.

A Comment by MFish

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MFish • 12/16/2021 at 11:32AM • Like Profile

Thank you