This heart and spirit have been broken to bits, beyond
repair, there's no way to salvage any of the pieces, I
just don't care anymore.
...
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Beyond Repair! With the muse of pains. Thanks for sharing.
Hugs! Hold on dear RoseAnn, a poet's heart can be teared, shredded, smashed, but shall be back with more power, as the poet soul might die a thousand times but will jump back standing straight, high, a thousand and one. Pain is the main course of a poet's dinner.