wounded.

Posted in Poetry
wounded.

and I don’t think it’s

all that fair

when you cry about

your life’s

injustices

on my shoulder

expecting my

tenderness

and my

empathy – while

knowing,

always knowing,

of this

land-mine

love

that is sure

to drag

my heart

deeply through

your warzone

because you

still love

her.

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wounded.

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Posted by Angie   @   3 December 2009

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