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| By the light of the moon, she weeps, her sorrow escapes, with a flood. She tries to hold back, to keep a straight face, but the force is too strong, and the waterfall overpowers her. She lets it all out, and returns to her life, a life of stress, and torments, hoping against hope, the flood will never return. ~9/25/04 |
| This poem was written sitting outside of the mall in South Austin, waiting for a movie to start. I had just gotten out of the hospital several days earlier. |
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