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Daughter Of The Mirror.

This image you see shines with more magnificence than you'd imagine- If it was cracked in more places than the lines across your heart, It would be crashed to crystal grains and you, by the hurt. If it was crashed, even evenly scattered o'er wrong places, Your beauty would still be bathed in better

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The days that I have loved you

In the days that I have loved you I have learnt disappointment The lesson that we all know That no one is perfect That we blatantly ignore And take in precious souls Open hearts full of expectations But I had forgotten To separate loving you With my mind, from Loving you with my heart So I had to learn realistically That my

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The midnight call

Thought of our day one, It was one of a kind. For sure I had won, the beauty of them I found. That night was at its mid. This ill say in a jest, And please don't detest. This midnight call has no coincidence, no, NO...! But one thing you must know, I stay late to see the night, Waiting for

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Start Over

Today I woke up feeling heavy and spent The day already incipient with gloom And the darkness of my self doubts Reflected in the early morning fog My impudence shelved and catching flack For feeling like doom My body questions its natural state, An enigma The way it sits, counterfactual, shy, This damsel’s grit way in the gutter Already limp,

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A Slain Queen

Her usually irritable husband, Maina, was being too nice and polite. Eerily so, considering the heated exchanges that often defined their tumultuous one year marriage. Maria couldn’t even remember the last time she donned her marital ring. Wedded bliss had dried quicker than wet paint. On this ordinary day, he had

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The Loud Silence

In the dead of night, beside the light post I no longer hear voices of laughter Just toads gulping down scores of mosquitoes Even crickets have sought refuge No one paving paths through the thick forests Not even the noisy drunks The once bountiful plains now reduced to dust and ashes Germinated with rapidly springing headstones Silence has

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Feminist First

Excuse me sir but I am a feminist first Yes, you mister with the litter of disdain you throw my way At my hair, my face, my shirt Armored in your spick and span, suit and tie Betrayed only by the ensuing silence that follows the forbidden F bomb, Expressed in darting eyes, Aaargh! She

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His Beard

The ultimate accessory That emphasizes his masculinity, Intensifies his hero complex. Never to be put down With his stubble in tow. Steady mocking on the low Long as she, Shiro, the zero, knows. Don’t dare blow the whistle And unload the pistol ‘Cause his stock will plummet Faster than Shiro’s hooking knickers on payday Screaming checkmate After that late night I’m late

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