Frayed Thoughts

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Poetry

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We need the simple saint in these days. The saint that prays at dawn, then makes coffee, maybe reads the morning paper, or maybe just some poetry. The saint who prays to work and back – maybe running a little l (1).png
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In secret we met; In silence I grieve Thta they heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee - With silence and tears. Lord Byron (2).png
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