It's real: the fury. Like the absence and breakdown of chlorophyll in autumn leaves. The anger comes in spurts, and spits out like growth. Truth is ever only partially told, at best.
Here & There
Here a few poems, there a few tears what more do you need to give shape to your life?
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-~- see 's./j. goldner' for my poems contributed 2004 - 2008 -~-
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