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This is a section where I post poems sent to me by people who have found my site and wish to display their own works. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
This poem is by Christopher Michael Collins
Untitled 4
felt beneath this winter wasteland
strange tide that draws them in
dangerous emotions
blown in by the breath
of this cold season's wind
Why Father do I feel this way
she asks but not aloud
curiously empty
thirst for tender touch
haunts the winter child
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