lady of the laceA Poem by Ed Hartwhat are the odds encountering you at this gas station miles from everywhere and years of grace i'm as you see contained losing all those victories cleanses the lenses so to speak thank you for this embrace of memory the gifts and sudden cliffs of you your smile which i see is darker red don't pout your spirit wears it well and i'm grown old beyond repair no sense of pretty speech i wish you well again... © 2016 Ed HartReviews
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Added on June 22, 2016Last Updated on June 24, 2016 |

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