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My hours of sorrow
November 20, 2012
I sit,
I stare,
I wonder,
I dare,
ask.
Ask who did this to me.
Ask how did this happen?
Ask why.
It takes a second for me to realize
that these are all questions
I know the answer to.
I stare at the bottom of
this bottle and it has
a message.
These aren't just scars,
they're memories.
© Ashley W., Port Charlotte, FL
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