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Ode to Woe
A slave and I, the same, as we’re not whole
That pain controls our steps I now believe
It lingers in my lungs choking our soul
As woe it permeates the air we breathe

Yet step again into a hurt we’ve known
A victim forced by thought not of our own

Until all rational deductions fail
The truth it sets me free, if so I chose
But cling instead of search the holy grail
Afraid of what it is that we may lose

Victim no more to wake again some day
Without a sip of sanity I lay

By April Lynne Logue

© 2010 April Lynne Logue (All rights reserved)


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