they peregrinate no more, these regal birds of prey...
encased in a glass cage, their feathered forms are unruffled...
their sharp eyes unseeing, yet their heads are held high...
while tiny hearts still beat in flight over some dusty skies...
Free flow
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When I started writing I felt that the words I produced were meaningful.
Had value. Over the years I filled up notebook after notebook and when I
opened th...
1 week ago
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