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Melissa DeMedio

I see from afar,
The shadows that are,
Painless; brainless,
That are growing hard.

I laugh,
I tell,
I hope to hell,
That life carries on,
Without this bale.

Truth be told,
Is that's now,
Only a memory,
From thy found,
From thee hope,
Where shadows aren't bound.

To carry with forth,
A bucket; a pale,
A tunnel that leads,
To light we foresee; How?

Light it alters,
Shadows a play,
For all that's known,
Is kept a way.

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