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Bronze Poet

Marie the muse

Marie the muse
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Beauty can’t describe how much the world inhales for her
She stops the hands of time with just a single flick of hair
Those eyes of green and smiles pristine, she walks with confidence
But deep inside she is deprived of love she can’t declare

I listen to her talk about the guys who do her wrong
She cries about the change and how she could have been much better
A single tear and black veneer, a long embrace for hope
For me to say how I display my love: within a letter

She pounces on me with her arms and hangs from my shoulders
I rest my head on hers and then I hold her hands so tight
Seconds, hours. She devours my low self esteem
With adjectives and objectives we exchange through the night

Night becomes the cell and I encounter isolation
She is in a dream in which she dances to dismissal
I lie alone, a gramophone. Sorrow amplified
Mortified, viscera cries solely because I miss her

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