Matthew Edan Oliver Palma
And our promises choked with every mean word...
and our touch freezes cold our sweet stares that's grown old...
and our forevers are now but an echoed hollow word...
and our used-to-be's are but dirt being swept off the floor...
still you are the one who can untear my torn world.
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Comments about this poem (And... by Matthew Edan Oliver Palma )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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