Poems from TheGoldenApples13

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Society is broken. God is my all.
I'm not a bumper sticker gal. There's a little something in me that winces at the slogans and the white sticker cut-outs on the rear...
What is there to be said When all the pictures have been painted, when wordsmiths more skilled have woven better phrases Who am I, who am...
Seeming as soaked in salvation as wet wheat fields rusted with rain and the heavy clouded mountains in their fog-wreaths of blue The air...
(This poem was penned at 1:16 AM) Late at night All the babies are asleep, growing slowly In the quiet space between cold vault of stars...
    whatever I think becomes what I do yet those things which I wish never come true.   the sun on this morning lies bright on the faces...

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