Poetry

My interest in poetry comes and goes. I haven't written anything for a long time now. Everything posted here is old.

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Brick

It wouldn't be about her,
it never was.

The others were lost in themselves
not really knowing what they needed to fill that hole.

She came to them
a weak point of insertion,
wedging her thoughts between their well conceived plans.

Even if she cut close,
hit a bone
bit deep for a moment
no outward facade would be scarred.
They were too well built for that.

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