a breath of you

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Confessions of a teenaged poet

A breeze so sweet and fresh
That is cannot seem to be
Blows across the bloodied field
And into my very soul

Seeping, creeping, ever weeping
Sliding on, riding on, guiding my soul

I turn to look at you
You smile and cannot seem to be
Your glow lights my soul’s darkness
With warmth and tenderness true:

leaking, seeking, ever peeking
fitting in, sitting in, knitting my soul

A love so strong and real
That it cannot seem to be
Flows between our beings love
And into my empty heart:

Reach, screeching, ever teaching
Learning of, concerning of, burning my soul

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