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micropoetry PoeEternal poetry Writing

Solace

Love makes no sense

She waits by her solace
Weightless is a promise
Desires hot as August
One soul he’ll never notice

Patience wears like tattered dresses
Diving head first into second guesses
Hope is the response of any message
Long is delay when searching for senses

© Delia Ross. 2019

By PoeEternal

I'm gone. Maybe it's like I never existed at all.

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