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A pen
An instrument
Of expression.
When words,
When your voice
Fails.
And the dry tears,
The silent cry,
The colourless blush
Or the blank laughter
Is unnoticed –
And twisted language
Is twisted further
Into twisted tales
Of relentless thought.
sometimes its a song. sometimes its a word. sometimes its a sometimes.
1 comment:
i likes this.
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