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Title: Willow tree

by Aimee | in writing, poetry

Crying, always crying,
Without drama, without fuss,
Just crying.
Majestically mournful;
She drapes herself over the sapphire glass.
Emerald fingers strain in vain,
For fading, far away memories.
Her whole existence spent reaching.
Not up; down.

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original_b, poetry

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