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Thoughtful Winds smashing to smithereens
This mind of glass.
They scatter,
I fear !
They might cause
A havoc.
These thoughts.

I gather and put them inside,
My hands bleed,
Their rough edges
So sharp.

I cry in pain,
They are precious like
The fire inciting spark.
Overlooking the hurt
I try to find
The key to
That heart-rending
Lock I lost.

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