Friday, December 26, 2025

Nothing Of Nothing Comments

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Shadows of smoke drift away, thoughts that spoke of a bygone day
Echoes of time, footprints in sand, set in rhyme from a poet's hand
Pages of ash no eye has seen, deemed trash, by years of wind wiped clean
Faded ink on sculptured ice, melt in the sink not leaving puddle or slice
...
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soren Barrett
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