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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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