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Let the howls of the wind  Ruffle the hushed moments  The clinky leaves entwined Constrain the sound of silence. Let the buzzes of the bees  Land into my ears The soft flaps of the butterfly 
The notion that one becomes a poet through others to me is strange I grew from artists composer those with words unnoticed sometimes you forget the roots of poetry being music 
Catch the sun Catch it before it sets
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