To kindle the old oakA Poem by SomeOwl
To wander and follow a path
that had no particular end, I stumbled on an old friend That friend in which I loved that payed me back in ache The friend which provided safety; left not a trace of warm embrace Safety, surprises and infinity Is what the dying oak provided me Oddly enough I feel at home After despising this place All those years ago © 2015 SomeOwl |
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Added on January 10, 2015 Last Updated on January 10, 2015 |

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