Tasha Black


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Best Poem of Tasha Black

Mine

Running,
hearing the twigs crack under my feet
and the crumble of the leaves while running to a place called mine,
no one knows about,
I can see the sunset on the dock of the pond,
red,
pink,
orange,
yellow,
and blue,
to the stars twinkling in the night,
no one would ask where I was i would not tell a soul the place I call mine.

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