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I Write Poetry

The shadowed tangles of Jack Daniels' thinking,
crazy hearts of hate no linking.
When arms or smiles not meant for lending,
just breathe of hate or lust depending.
As nimbus smoke hangs slow unsteady,
ceiling grazing, The deer hunt ready.
Once sleepwalk starts its sweet refrain
those trouble thoughts return again.
carpediem · 61-69, M
I enjoyed this. Thanks

 
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