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  • Emotional

    Untitled

    I feel lost.
    After a while I stopped wanting anything.
    I stopped expecting.
    Just take a look, I'm no longer pure quality.
    I've been used, and strangled.
    I know I have something to say, but it doesn't sound right.
    It makes no sense.
    So I tell you.
    And then you, my love, my angle,
    Point my trust back at me, and shoot me down.
    So sudden, I don't feel it.
    I won't feel it.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Ssarah’s Poems (2)

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