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I walked

I walked here from a far off place. Left my worth there, I try to beg for anything to give me value. But you see me and you pass me by, going further away than I’d like to be; but you see me and you pass me by, holding out your hand with a finger to poke my swelling eyes. I cannot breathe without thinking of the breaths I took when I was there; where I’ve been is of no importance to who I am, but that’s how you know what to call me. You can see for yourself.

She Is Beautiful!
White On Rice

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musings & scribbles