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Untitled Poem

*peace…before anyone kills me on this, I’m NOBODY’s poet. I wrote this one night just trying a new style. I mean I can write effective rhymes well but poetry has always struck me as difficult. Here goes my attempt to share a little about myself.*

Untitled

Bright moon at my back with
dead leaves underfoot and the
stirring winds carry scents of
cinnamon and
the memory of
the last kiss she gave me with honey
tinged lips that shame me with
lust I feel but love I know
so well and all we were doing
was listening to each other
for once

The moon carried me through lost
paths we forged are new again
we clasps hands as if we never
left each other

paths we forged are new again
paths we forged are new again

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