Let Them Fly
V
Valsa George
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My head, a steaming kettle
Thoughts bleed like ink from a pen
But are muddled up and messy
They do not have a neat flow
They come out in squirts
Leaving a spreading scarlet stain,
With a monochrome of sadness
Still I feel an instant relief
As the latch of a cage being unfastened
To let out the birds of pain fly far
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