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by candykidAshburn, Virginia, USAJun 113 comments


I’ve played with glass marbles, they’re black as black gets...
Cracked down their middles....and right through their backs...
Chained to long nights backed with painful cold-sweats...
I’ll bet that these pains are the best I’ve met yet...

Although I do know, though I don’t......will I grow?...
The best of me.....that person I’ve never known...
And while cracks remain, time has maintained what’s stained...
Strained cracks in black glass back and reaps what’s been sown....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 11
About this poem:
Too fast to live, too young to die....

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Comments (3)

Hi Candykid,
I'm trying to make out a portret of your personality through the lines of your poetry ... not sure if it s that easy .. but it’s clear that you are very talented. It s great you go on writing. we all have our own fissures, otherwise we would not come to this site. Anyway..thank you for sharing your verse. Lily wave
You haven't lost your marbles because that's a cracker, laugh
i see your pen is still on fire bro i pray all is good with you angel
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on Jun 11
Last Viewed: 13 hrs ago
Last Edited: Jul 11
Last Commented: Jul 22

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