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Excuse, Cliché, Lie

by Richard Vince

Sitting alone, at one
Reading by candlelight
The words on her arms.

Making peculiar sense...
Extracting wisdom
Like blood from a stone,
While the world around her
Sleeps, unaware.

She will never tell.
Always one to keep a secret.

What they don't know
Can't hurt them, she says,
As if she really believes it.

07/06/2001

Posted on 10/06/2001
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

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