Beads Of Life Comments

Stringing along beads of life as I turn away from the piercing screams of loneliness.
Left out of all treasures in light of remorseful tremors, holding me in a warped sort of paperback book.
Always being exchanged and never surpassed by anyone else's life in many books of poetry.
Listening thoroughly with an open heart, never believing that all of existent details will be expelled in poetical musings for a timeless period of usefulness.
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