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The Little Things

*pic courtesy from pinterest  The little things the little smile the little flower in the corner aisle the little butterfly catches my eye along with  the hovering bee like sketches drawn in the sky look at the little ant fleet just close to my feet the little spider takes a warm seat the little girl who hops on the broken tile while her mother looks right across  the street from a mile I wave at her she waves back the little gestures the little fingers the little spider continues to linger the little heartbeats as humming treats while I pick up the little crumbs from my bread last night

There Is More


Behind a shut door,
Inside an empty store,
Between the pieces tore,
Beyond the pompous shore,
There is more.
Underneath the laughing roar,
Tripped out a hidden tear.
Filling up an outrageous air,
Climbing down the rusty stair.
There is more.
A heart gone sore,
Or A soul driven tour,
Eyes turned sour,
Or A ripped off core.
But still there is more.
Never left before,
Walked out the door,
Tears touched the floor,
Standing there ignore,
Memories riving galore,
Yet there will be more.

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