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JymWrites: Life’s Beautiful Piece (Poem)

Love;
What a way to exist
Afraid to live, to die, to hurt and get hurt.

Blames;
So when the dying oak blames its death on the moisture in the soil,
It may be right.

Heartbreaks;
How do I tell my story?
That I’m the moisture that tiptoed on your cushion of love with a plot?

Trust;
How do I explain I’m stuck somewhere in between
Because I’m still tainted with the venom of an old Eve.

Fear;
Now look how the braves in your eyes are causing
me to look over my shoulders twice
Causing a rift between my heart and mind.

Truth;
I plucked my heart off the root of the oak.
Love is blind, how could I see the oak’s heart fixed to mine?
Now look where we stand…

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