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My heart and mind are young but my soul is old and cold.

My soul is forever thriving like a perennial rose.

My soul holds certain things some will never know.

I'm prominent that my soul will persevere and even though, its old and grey it grows from year to year.

Pure eloquent's and divine elagance both relevant to my soul.

Dwelling in the depths of my lonesome troublesome ocean with so much commotion.

I see the world for what it is in the notion of my indissoluble soul.


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Replies to This Discussion

Nice poem Justin. I love the sincerity.
Thank you Shira I really appreciate the feedback.
I like your poem, somewhat.  I'm a little confused though.  If your soul is old and cold how, then, can it still be growing?  I think it would wither and die.


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