I wanna write.
I must write
To satisfy
My soul.
I know it’s late,
But I can’t wait
To journal on
My scroll.
It liberates
And detonates
Each living cell
To mimes.
One out in space
Bearing a face
With rhythm and
With rhymes.
By Patrecia Gray
8/25/2010
1:45 pm
After a trying time with humanities.
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