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Post by apocalypticjay on Feb 21, 2010 19:01:19 GMT -5
Wading through the black to the sea, moments of pacification laying dead on the beach- sand in my hair and sleep in my eyes I return
Reaching past the sceptre of prominence to hands of sincerity and ears of acceptance, I walk no lonely path of pity or pain- I return
Days I spent painting a picture of paradise I so sadly burn the past for embers of brighter futures, finding myself, durable and adaptable to my healing, so I return
Although tears threaten to crack my pallid face and leave me a broken porcelain fraud of worth, I clasp what once was with what could be and feel my helm- I have returned.
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Post by Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com on Feb 21, 2010 22:12:53 GMT -5
I'm glad you posted this here as well, Jay, I really think it's more appropriate. The Prodigal Son, truly, is welcomed home. *exalt*
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Post by Harklight on Feb 22, 2010 17:10:37 GMT -5
Thank goodness, Jay! Not only return but also, returned "home". A very emotional write, AJ. It brought a lump to the throat, which passed as I read on. Exalt! H x
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Post by Artemis on Feb 23, 2010 5:04:19 GMT -5
Jay you KNOW my feelings on this piece, and you know how much you mean to me, it's so good to have you back and it's just excellent to be working with you again. Much love, Kermit xxxxxx
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cinda
Junior Member
Posts: 47
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Post by cinda on Mar 15, 2010 12:43:41 GMT -5
I like how you write of having had a place of Prominence to walking into acceptance. This piece moved me. Beautifully done.
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