Come here for my poems. I look forward to your impressions, emotions and inspirings.
Art credit Angel Dominguez
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Her climb
I was born in a cloud
If I had a chance to choose
Shames, regrets and frets behind
There is a little hidden glen
I have wandered seeking wonder
In our multitudes
We gathered on the strand
as her letter had asked;
each mourner held a page
from our friend who had passed.
What if I was searching for my self
would I recognize myself as me?