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The Breeze that Speaks

When the poet’s voice

Is silenced,

The world must pause

And remember

The breeze that speaks

To branches

And the beauty of it all.

War is shit.

An endless looping trauma.

Justice cries out

From the soul

As despots rage

And the wealthy

Shut their doors again.

If you carry pain

And grief

And kindle light inside,

I see your eyes.

I hold you in

The chambers of my heart.


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