2017.01.21

1

I feel the rock slumbers in my stomach.

Right in the center, unable to rid.

It groes heavier, daily.

As I push it back up,

and it rolls down, again

collecting mass as it goes.

 

2

Every little thing worries me.

A gentle wave, in a second,

storms the ocean.

A delightful breeze,

shakes up the tree.

 

 

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