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The sun burns steel cold
sharp and cutting
reaching the depths of me.
I don’t hear birds singing
and the noise
of all living things
sends shock waves
into my brain.

Did you know how much
I loved you
did you know how much
you meant to me
what do I do now
where do I go from here

Editing stage: 


That was agreat compliment, my friend.

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Real men can be sensitive too.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

We're all still little boys, Jess,, and when we are dying we call for our mothers. Ask anyone who works in a hospice,

I once said to you that no man can truly measure another man's pain, I think you can do a better job than I did,''


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A beauty of a piece that held the feelings close, where do you go from here you asked.
If only we knew young Joe, but if they told us a series of truths, we would still be lost as to our final journey, but I will see you on the other side..
Take care young man, Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

I hope so, Ian.

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Wow! Joe! You have reached your core. Congratulations!


Thank you ,my Anna

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Starting to read this, I thought at first "Oh well, just another angst poem".
Then I read the second stanza.
My gods, man, you hit the target, the loss, dead on. Sharp, clear and anguished.
Simply wonderful.

Respectfully, Race

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

Another "angst poem,", huh? Why I oughta. LOL. This one surprised me too, Jim.



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like any ordinary folk like me
would be....

too deep for a soul
to seep


You are no way "ordinary", my friend.

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are still so discerning
it marvels me

How I wish some day
I too could be
like thee


Btw is steal or is it steel cold ? (Both would work, Joe).

"steel", thanks, Anna.

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