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A huge empty garden
covered
by death apples.
Today I need so much to cry:
nothing happens.

A half full china cup
filled
with untasty coffee.
All my life searching for
a lost trophy.

A nearly smoked cigarrette
waited
for the morning.
I will lit another and fail
to keep it burning.



Poetry by emily chambers
Read 1096 times
Written on 2007-04-04 at 19:44

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