Sonnet for the Suffering

 
White magnolia,

Sweet fragrance of my freedom. 

Linger through my strife. 

 

 

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Chess

Chess

I think it’s your move…

Do we remember happy?
or was it disappointment?

The things in my head are as clear as the muddy words falling from your deceitful lips.

And old scars are used to excuse the infliction of fresh wounds.

I came for a partner, not an opponent.

Stalemate…
You win.

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