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mercy me and all that jazz
four hours later, four hours of blank page.
third going on fourth, and the slush pile gets one poem deeper
not that i ever expect to make it.
because guess what? they're all the same
oh poor me in my poor world
secrets to keep, but my name is worth more.
secrets, darkness, love.
and what else do we have?
are there only a select few?
Questions with no answers?
all because of you (me)
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