Poetry no image

Published on March 17th, 2011 | by George Wyngaardt

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The Reign of my pain

When will it ever stop, I’ve watched it fall countlessly drop after drop.

Its cold i can feel it creeping inside my bones.
It only gets worse you can see it seep amongst the stones.

Why do i doubt sunlight o’ the negative aura.
The window panes are small… but my pain only grows taller.

The empathy i feel looks towards the sky, I feel your pain but the difference is when it rains…. it’s you who gets to cry

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George Wyngaardt

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