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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

DownPour

I dream..
To see you.
I scream..
To feel through.
I kiss..
To listen deep.
I freeze..
To glisten weep.
I hold..
To cease cold.
I breathe..
To unfold.
I fear..
To fight fair.
I stare..
Until the last flair.
I run..
Until feet’s give up.
I climb..
Obsolete heights.
I waited..
Too long.
I lie..
But cannot forget..
The downpour.
A tormented outburst..
The sights which vanish.
Until I famish.

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