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Friday, February 22, 2019

Anguish






It falls within 
enlightenment's 
closing line,

when morning has passed 
and the noon sun
dimmed.

No moon rise 
brightens spirit 
when the dull ache 
of lost affection

inflicts its prick
upon fresh wound.

Veiled threat
cloaks despair
when the heart weeps 
a sour smile.






February 22,2019
© Pamela A. Lamppa, 
All rights reserved

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