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Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Painful, it must have been
or was she benumbed,
when she fumbled down the stairs made of love,
shattered into a million pieces,
each piece, too tiny to pick,
each piece, too far to find,
There must be a place
for the broken, ruined, destroyed and healed...
but she lives somewhere in the clouds of peace
as specks of dust, unknown and unseen...