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Sunday 4 February 2018

BBB Poem 85

I reach out to nowhere
Not knowing what to touch
I collect scraps and tit-bits
Yet squander so much

I wave a hand at the dark
Not knowing the friend
I undo words, letters also
I undo, to hold back at the end

I am no different
To millions, zillions of men
All who suffered heartbreak
And now gravitate to zen


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