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Sonnet To Myself

Rating: 3.0

I live wide awake with an eye
That like a periscope it travels stealthily
The stele of the waters of past
And it makes me see again the ships that I lost.

All men are diluted while they sprout
As an absurd tree that grows down,
The love of rain hardly touches it
The language of wind rarely speaks to him.

Today I must smile at my reflex in the water
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Monday, March 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life and death
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