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A collection of some of my poems. At least, those that I like the most. English is not my first language.
Listen to the clock in the wall,
Look at the birds in the garden.
Get drunk in that repetitive partern,
And — maybe — you might feel the void of my burden.
You might see beauty,
I might feel pain.
There are memories
Of a stolen childhood.
Growing up — flooded in tears.
Unable to whine, unable to feel.
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