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		<title>Daniel Scotty Roz | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/djamroz04</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Daniel Scotty Roz</description>
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			<title>Dearest Enemies</title>
			<description>To My Dearest Enemies,Days have been fading away like grains of dust.&amp;nbsp;I've been targeted&amp;nbsp;as if I'm someone no one can trust.&amp;nbsp;What's wrong with me?&amp;nbsp;My friends have been cutting me off like strands of hair.&amp;nbsp;This agony I feel is hardly explainable.&amp;nbsp;What's this feeling I ha..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1282449/</link>
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			<title>Rope and Glass</title>
			<description>*Sigh*...And I tried to be gentle about it. I had to be graceful and let go of things that weren't meant to be.Before I had been strangled, dangling by the thread of a rope I had tied us together by this same noose.We suffered together in such sweet harmony, escaping reality in the midst of our crea..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1276282/</link>
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			<title>I didn't </title>
			<description>I recognized where I was, but I was lost regardless.I had become prey to the fetuses that I, myself, had raised. Under my warm wings they grew until they could fly away.The flame in&amp;nbsp; their glare with no words spoken had not burned me, but instead had left me stuck and frozen.Legs locked and hel..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1276280/</link>
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			<title>Vultures</title>
			<description>In light or in darkness, vultures don't starve while staring down at fallen comrade's carcasses. But what are friends worth when trying to fill your belt's girth.And what's the definition of honesty when those scheming fiends are cursed with incurable gluttony.So they'd circle around the rotting fle..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1276275/</link>
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			<title>Bandages</title>
			<description>I feel like these bandages are sewn onto me, never to leave. The cloth soon turns into my scars.The pain has settled in, never to leave. Only my eyes are open to prove that I am still conscious.Rushing tears turn to blood, but they don't trickle, they flood. They flood in heavy waves that don't ever..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1276256/</link>
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			<title>The Baker</title>
			<description>The dough is round up from yeast at eye's first glance. They say the one in control is the same who cares the least. Take your brave stance, but wait! You must not rush the process even when the dough tastes of perfection. You shouldn't let her vision be your deepest ambition...stimulate an ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/djamroz04/1276247/</link>
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